


Always Say Goodbye

by SpaceCorgi



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Demons, Angst and Humor, Blackwatch, Demon Hanzo Shimada, Eventual Relationships, Explicit Language, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, McHanzo - Freeform, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ouija, Overwatch Family, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Troubled Past, why did they have to play with a ouija board
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-06 21:40:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11609499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceCorgi/pseuds/SpaceCorgi
Summary: "Let’s play with a Ouija board Reyes said, what’s the worst that could happen he said?"Well, a demon can come through the board... And that demon can be bound by contract to you.But the worst part?You can't terminate the contract.





	1. An Unwelcome Contract

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Kreppie from Tumblr for the entire thing! This was all their idea; I just filled in the blanks and fluffed it out a bit. Thanks for being patient. Here's your fluffy demon Hanzo! 
> 
>  
> 
> More notes at the end.

      “Happy birthday kid!” Gabriel shouted in Jesse’s ear as the arm draped heavily around the birthday boy’s shoulder hoisted up a beer in a salute to the occasion. The frothy amber liquid sloshed over the rim of the glass and onto Jesse’s shoulder much to his annoyance. 

      It wasn’t the first time that evening Gabriel Reyes had spilled beer on him nor would it be the last he suspected. The Blackwatch commander could hold his liquor pretty well and while he wasn’t drunk, he had certainly loosened up enough to not care about spilling a little alcohol on his comrades. Normally, Gabe was a tight ass whose idea of fun consisted of barking orders and beating people up on the training mats. Tonight Gabe’s toss of inhibition to the wind had delighted Jack Morrison who was grinning stupidly across the room at his lover. Every time Jesse caught the men looking at each other, he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that reared its ugly head. Jack and Gabriel’s love was the kind that came once in a lifetime. Jesse desperately wished he had someone who looked at him with that same kind of admiration in their eyes. At 37 years old, that wish was beginning to quickly feel like a pipe dream. It was no secret that Jesse was lonely; anyone with half a lick of intelligence could tell. Despite his best attempts to play off his bachelor status as ‘no big deal’, the depths of his loneliness revealed itself every time he came home from a mission. The moment his feet hit base property, Jesse’s body would slump, his eyes would drop, and he would hurry to his quarters as quickly as possible to avoid seeing the other members receive their loved ones. Gabriel had tried to talk to Jesse about it of course; but the little shit wasn’t having any of it. Eventually Gabe gave up and allowed his adopted son to mope in peace. 

    “Great party kid, you havin’ fun?” Jack’s husky voice stirred Jesse from his thoughts. 

    “Yeah, thank y’all kindly for showin’ up and fer the gifts,” Jesse said good-naturedly to the Strike Commander. 

    “You liked your gift right?” Jack asked sheepishly, turning his bright blue eyes on Gabriel. Jesse also stole a glance in that direction. 

      Gabe was laughing as he bench-pressed Lena who was giggling and loudly counting the reps. Beside Gabriel was Reinhardt lifting Angela into the air in time with his competitor. Everything was a fun competition to Reinhardt and the old German seemed to be having the time of his life as his loud laugh echoed through the room. Angela, however, seemed to have a different opinion on the matter and was looking a little green in the face. Jesse hoped she wouldn’t puke on his carpet; he was sure that tomorrow’s hangover wouldn’t handle cleaning up stale vomit. Jesse turned his gaze back to Jack’s and met the blue eyes head on. He could tell that the other was waiting on pins and needles. No doubt Jack had picked it out; he was incredibly thoughtful and clever when it came to gifts. The gift was a beautiful leather jacket that Jesse suspected had been handcrafted given its soft, supple texture. Most leather jackets needed to be broken in and worn a number of times so as not to creak at the joints, but this one had slid on and melted into him like warm butter. He had also received a box of his favorite cigarillos and whiskey from the couple, but Jesse knew that Jack was asking about the leather jacket. Jesse had been tempted to wear it for the rest of the evening after he had opened it but leather and alcohol didn’t mix so he had quickly hung it up safely in his bedroom.

    “Yeah, I loved it thanks so much!” Jesse said, pulling the other into a hug and putting Jack out of his misery. Jack visibly relaxed and smiled. 

    “The leather is so soft and rich! I can’t wait to wear it for longer than just a few minutes,” Jesse added. 

    “Best to wait until we leave,” Jack agreed with a wink, “don’t want Gabe or Rein spilling alcohol all over it.”

      The two men shared a laugh. The rest of the evening continued on like that; people came up, wished Jesse a happy birthday for the third or fourth time, and made sure that he was having a good time. Jesse assured them all that this was the best birthday yet. As he sat on a barstool in the kitchen surveying the group in the living room, Jesse couldn’t help but smile wide around the unlit cigarillo in his mouth. He had never really had much of a family to write home about; his father had abandoned him as a child and his mother had died during his early teens. After her death, the Deadlock Gang had picked up Jesse but they weren’t much of a family. He had spent his days running drugs, killing folks for petty cash, stealing, and getting his ass handed to him by other members of the gang when he so much as looked at them wrong. When he was picked up by Gabriel Reyes and made a member of Blackwatch, Jesse felt like he stumbled across a place he could call home and people he could call family. Jesse had always expected Gabe to toss him into the streets once he stopped being useful so he had busted his ass every mission, going above and beyond the call of duty. When Gabriel had called him on a particular foolish act that had cost him his left arm, Jesse had broken down. Without an arm, he would surely be cast aside. Instead, Gabe had pooled resources from both Overwatch and Blackwatch in order to craft Jesse a new arm. When presented with the prosthetic, Gabriel had called Jesse ‘son’ and told him that he would always have a place in their organization. Jesse idly rubbed the cold metal of the prosthetic as the noise of the party drew him back into the moment. 

      As darkness settled over the safe house that had become Jesse’s permanent residence, Gabriel threw his backpack into the center of the living room. The other members quickly assimilated into a circle around the man and his bag. Curiously, Jesse wandered over and looked on with the rest of the group. Gabe fished dramatically around in his backpack, pretending as if he was digging for some buried treasure. Jesse couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the scene. Gabriel had always had a flair for the dramatics. Nonetheless, Jesse could feel his skin prickle with curiosity. Finally, Gabriel closed his hand on a box and pulled it out. Lena and Hana gasped in unison behind him. Jesse stole a glance backwards and saw the girls squeezing each other’s hands, their jaws dropped. While Hana looked afraid, Lena looked intrigued. Emily was chewing her lip, her body pressed into Lena’s side. Jesse directed his gaze forward again. Jack was tense and had reached out, squeezing Gabe’s shoulder. Jesse became painfully aware of the hush that fallen over the group and noted that the only sounds now were those coming from the radio. Whatever was in the box was serious and Jesse really didn’t want to be a part of it. His birthday had been fun up until now and for some reason he couldn’t explain, whatever was in the box was wrong. Jack started to protest but fell silent as a sly grin played across Gabe’s face signaling that there was no turning back down. Slowly, he lifted the lid and set it aside. Carefully, he lifted a flat board with writing on it and a triangular piece of wood with a lens and set them on the floor. 

    “A fuckin’ Ouija board? Really?” Jesse said, folding his arms across his chest. Gabe grinned at him and he could feel the eyes of the group on him. 

    “Fore you even ask, the answer is no,” Jesse said firmly as Gabe cleaned off the planchette’s lens.

      Around him, the others had begun to whisper. Gabriel stood and crossed to Jesse. Jesse squared his shoulders and met Gabe’s stare, refusing to be coerced into playing the game. There was no way in hell that he was going anywhere near that thing. Jesse was incredibly superstitious; more so than he’d like to admit. Jesse was also afraid of the supernatural. His fear of the paranormal hailed from a place of personal experience. Because of this, he had hung a number of crosses (albeit they remained hidden from view so as not to attract unwanted attention or jokes from visitors) and often smudged the home. While Jesse wasn’t overly religious, he had bookmarked a number of passages in the Bible that he believed would help him in regards to spirits. In regards to the board Gabriel had brought, Jesse had also seen and read enough about them to know that no good came from Ouija boards; they were doorways to the other side and some doors were best left closed. Gabriel put both hands on Jesse’s shoulders and squeezed, the wicked toothy smile still stretched across his face. Jesse had half a mind to throw Gabe and the board out the door. But he didn’t want to ruin the festivities and was at least willing to hear the man out. 

    “Look kid, I wasn’t even gonna ask you to participate but the way I see it, you owe me,” Gabriel said haughtily. 

      Jesse flinched and chanced a look at Jack. Jack flushed but had the decency to look away and suddenly found the wall very fascinating. At one time, Jack Morrison had been a blonde. Now however, he had a full head of dark black hair. Jesse blushed and a quick glance at Hana revealed that she too was red in the face. He half considered throwing all of the blame on her in an effort to save himself, but Jesse knew his ship was already sunk; they had both taken equal blame the moment Jack had gone streaking down the hall in nothing but a towel threatening to throw someone from the rocky cliffs of Gibraltar. And to think, Jesse had really thought that both of the men were over it by now. He drug his eyes back to meet Gabriel’s but the piercing brown eyes forced his own down to the floor. He reflected back on the moment just a few short weeks ago. Both Jesse and Hana had gotten bored being cooped up at the Watchpoint. Athena had been on the fritz so there was no music, television, or news to enjoy and there were no missions to be sent out on. You could only train, sleep, eat, and read so much before the boredom turned to insanity. It was on this brink that Jesse and Hana had hatched the ultimate prank: pouring black hair dye into Jack’s shampoo bottle. At first they weren’t sure that it would work and Jesse half suspected that Jack would smell the chemicals long before they touched hair. However, the hair dye had taken well to the virgin snow blonde locks and Jack was forced to walk around with raven locks. He had hated it at first and was going to bleach it until Gabriel had convinced him to keep it. Gabe loved the edgier, darker look to Jack and Jack loved that his lover wasn’t calling him ‘boy scout’. Jesse felt angry; Gabe should be thanking him instead of trying to force him to do this. 

    “And besides, you’re the birthday boy and the birthday has to play,” Gabriel added darkly. Jesse sighed.

    “Fine,” he snarled and Gabe laughed, roughing up his hair. 

    “Good boy!”

      Gabriel moved the board to the kitchen table and Jesse reluctantly sat down beside him. Lena, Hana, and Jack also joined the circle. The others had chosen to sit it out for some reason or another. Rein had admitted to being afraid of the supernatural (how the giant German was afraid of anything was beyond him), Angela had wanted to take notes for science, Genji had called it “childish”, and the others had thrown in a number of excuses such as “I’ll die” that were tolerated by Gabriel. Jesse hadn’t been the least bit surprised when Lena had drug up a chair, her eyes eagerly raking over the board despite Emily’s protests. Jesse was however surprised when Hana joined in; he supposed that she had decided to sit of her own free will knowing that Gabriel would have turned on her next had she refused. Jesse hid his delight at the fact that at least if he had to be punished, Hana was being punished alongside him. He imagined that this is what it must feel like having siblings: doing something stupid together and getting in trouble for it together. Jesse hid his smile at the thought. While he’d never admit it out loud, it felt great to be a part of something like this… Not the Ouija summoning circle of doom mind you, but the family part. Jesse shifted uncomfortably in his chair as Gabe placed the planchette on the board. 

      As per requested, the lights and music had been turned off. The light from the full moon and several candles lit up the space well, but cast creepy shadows along the wall that made Jesse feel sick to his stomach. He watched one in particular as it snaked around the ceiling and he quickly turned his gaze back to the board as the shadow began to take on demonic features (or so Jesse imagined.) The board was well worn and showed several spots of age in the form of dark marks, cuts, and grooves. The surface was a light brown, the color of a well-worn scroll and the edges were trimmed with fancy black lines. The alphabet and numbers played across the surface written in an elegant, careful script that anywhere else would have looked beautiful to Jesse. In the left corner the word ‘yes’ was written in the same script underneath an intricately designed sun and on the opposite side ‘no’ rested just below a half moon. Jesse couldn’t help but notice that ‘yes’ was starting to fade from use and he swallowed the lump in his throat. At the bottom, ‘good bye’ was etched and Jesse could tell that the letters had been retouched sometime within the last few years; the ink looked much newer than the rest of the board and some of the ink had deviated outside of the script lines. Jesse’s eyes flitted to the planchette next. It was shaped like a heart and was stained slightly darker than the board. The All Seeing Eye was carved into the wood and inked black just beneath the lens. Jesse resisted the urge to run his fingers along the carving. 

    “Ready vaquero?” Gabe asked and Jesse swallowed. 

      He desperately wanted to ask why Gabriel had brought the board over and insisted on doing this in his home but he could imagine the answer. _Why would I do this shit in my own house? I’m not trying to fill my own home with demons! It’s okay to do it in yours because honestly niño you’re a demon of a son so it makes sense to do it here. Plus, you deserve it you little shit._ Yep, that’s exactly that Gabriel would say. There was no use in asking or arguing so Jesse decided that the sooner they started the sooner they could call it quits. Jesse rolled his shoulders back and popped his neck before putting his fingertips on the edge of the planchette. Gabriel laughed at the gesture but quickly stilled when Jack’s cold blue eyes burned a hole into him. Jesse fought back the urge to recoil his hands the moment they touched the wood and he could swear the thing felt hot, uncomfortably so, even to his prosthetic. The others joined in as well, their fingers lightly resting on the edges. Jack briefly lifted and rubbed his fingertips, staring at them before putting them back down. Jesse wondered if Jack had felt the heat too. Hana was the last to put her hands on the planchette but did so after some gentle coaxing from Jack. Gabriel rolled his eyes out of Jack’s sight but the gesture wasn’t missed by Jesse who immediately committed it to memory; Jack hated eye rolling and Jesse could hopefully use it to his advantage later. Jesse looked around and soaked in everyone’s faces at the table in an effort to stall. Gabriel looked focused on the task at hand, Jack nervous, Lena excited, Hana sick, and Jesse could only imagine how he must look. If he had to guess, he’d probably say he probably looked a lot like Hana. Jesse licked his chapped lips and looked back at the board. 

    “Uh, h-hello?” Jesse squeaked out. Gabriel laughed but was quickly subdued by an elbow to the ribcage by Jack. The planchette stayed still. 

    “Um, is there anyone here with us?” McCree asked again, his eyes still on the planchette. No movement. 

    “This is stupid let’s-“ Hana started but was quickly cut off as the planchette easily glided to ‘yes’. Jesse swallowed at the others stared slack-jawed at the board. The group around them began to whisper nervously. Jesse stared at the board for a few more seconds before clearing his throat. _The faster I move this along, the faster I can be done with it, Jesse told himself._

    “Are you dead?” Jesse asked, and Gabriel snickered. The planchette backed up and then shifted back to ‘yes’. 

    “Duh,” Lena said obnoxiously with a giggle. Jesse glared at her. 

    “Are you in the room with us?” Jesse was grasping at straws; he wasn’t entirely sure what to ask the spirit. He was simply reciting washed up scripts for horror documentaries and movies at this point. Once again, the planchette moved backwards then shifted to ‘yes’. 

    “Are you from ‘round here?” The piece moved to ‘no’. 

    “Where are you from then?” The planchette remained motionless for a moment then began moving towards the alphabet. Jesse watched as it glided to ‘b’ before spelling out beyond. Jesse tried not to giggle as his friends, at least he assumed it was them, moved the piece around the board. 

    “Beyond? Beyond where?” Jesse asked, started to feel a little more relaxed. After all, it was just his dumb friends moving the piece around to spell things out. Surely a spirit would say something more creative than just ‘beyond.’ The planchette began to drag rapidly across the board, making scratching noises as it raced along that Lena interpreted as irritation. Once again, it spelled out ‘beyond.’ Clearly Gabriel couldn’t think of anything else so Jesse decided to ask something else. 

    “Alright. What’s your favorite TV show?” Jesse knew that Gabriel’s guilty pleasures were crime dramas so he waited for the title of one to be spelled out. Once that happened he’d throw it in Gabriel’s face and they could end this stupid game. The planchette stayed perfectly still. Jesse glanced around at the others who were regarding the board with curiosity. 

    “You don’t have a favorite show?” Jesse asked, surprised that Gabriel hadn’t taken the bait. The planchette lazily drifted to ‘no’. Hana snorted. Jesse once again suppressed a laugh; he’d have to give Gabe credit for being smart enough to not fall into the trap. 

    “How’d you die?” Lena blurted out. Everyone paled and turned their gaze on the excited woman. She simply shrugged unapologetically. The planchette began moving across the board, drawing everyone’s attention back to it. Angela called the letters out loud, writing them down in her notepad as the spirit moved across the board. Her pen fell from her hand and bounced off the floor with a click as the board settled. 

    “I was never alive,” Jack repeated. 

    “The fuck’s that mean?” Gabriel asked and Jesse chewed his lip. The planchette began moving again. Lazily, it spelled out its word and came to a rest. Angela left the room followed by Genji. Jesse paled. If this was his friends’ idea of a joke, it wasn’t funny anymore. 

    “Demon,” Jack said the board’s spelling out loud quietly. Hana coughed. If this Gabriel’s way of paying Jesse and Hana back for the prank, it was downright cruel. Jesse looked at the man beside him but Gabriel showed no signs of being in on it; he looked dead serious and confused. Jack began to shift his weight in his chair and Jesse’s hands started to tremble. If Gabriel wasn’t in on this and they had actually made contact... Jesse tried to halt the thoughts as they formed, but couldn’t. A demon was talking to them. A demon was in his house. Words formed and left Jesse’s mouth before he could consider them.

    “What’s your name?” Jesse hadn’t been aware that the others were talking around him but another silence fell across the room at his question. The planchette began to drag itself across the board, pausing on the appropriate letters. 

    “Hanzo? Really? That’s a pretty shitty name,” Gabriel said with a hoarse laugh, “if you were trying to scare us you could have come up with something better. Hell you could have even told me you’re Lucifer or Beelzebub. But Hanzo? Hanzo’s just trash. You’re not even trying.” 

    “This isn’t funny anymore Gabe,” Jesse said loudly. Hana had taken her hands off the planchette and was cupping her face. Jack was rubbing her back, glaring a variety of holes into Gabriel. Gabe cocked his head at Jesse, as if asking what in the hell he was talking about. 

    “Just admit that you’re moving the damn thing,” Jesse snarled, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

    “I’m not!” Gabe snarled. 

    “We talked about this on the way here, Gabriel. Joke’s up, fun’s over, admit it,” Jack said pleadingly. Gabriel turned his gaze to Jack and for the first time all night, Jesse saw fear in Gabe’s eyes.

    “You weren’t moving it, carino?” Gabe’s voice wobbled as he met Jack's eyes and Jack’s face paled. 

    “No,” Jack whispered. Gabriel immediately turned on Jesse.

    “Wasn’t fuckin’ me!” Jesse snarled, “I didn’t even want to play this stupid game.” 

    “So you thought you’d scare me by moving the piece huh? Beat me at my own devices,” Gabriel’s voice turned predatory and Jesse scooted his chair back away from him with a loud squeak. Suddenly, the planchette began to knock against the table drawing everyone’s attention back to it. Once all eyes were on the wooden piece, it flew untouched off the board and into the wall hard enough to leave a nick. Hana flipped out of her chair and the others backed away from the table quickly. 

    “Oh fuck this, hell no!” Jesse snarled, grabbing the board and planchette. He crossed the room in just a few long strides and stuffed everything back into Gabriel’s backpack. Jesse held the backpack out at arm’s length and shook it in Gabe’s direction. 

    “Take your shit!” Jesse said through gritted teeth. Nobody made a move and Jesse shook the backpack violently. 

    “Take. Your. Shit. Now,” Jesse annunciated each word. Gabriel made his way over and took the bag with shaky hands. 

    “We didn’t say goodbye,” Gabriel said quietly, holding the bag to his chest. 

    “So?” Jesse said wiping his hands off on his jeans as if touching the bag and board had soiled them. 

    “So, we have to end the contract stupid,” Gabe replied, biting his lip at McCree’s lack of knowledge in regards to the occult. 

    “Too damn bad. That thing went back to the beyond or wherever and I’m NEVER letting any of you do that shit again in my house. Got it?” Jesse barked, glaring at everyone. The others nodded quickly and Gabe shrugged his shoulders in defeat. Jesse knew that would be as close to a ‘yeah’ as he’d get so he took it. 

      Eventually, the board was forgotten and everyone fell back into their party routines. Emily and Lena danced on Jesse’s coffee table to the music while Hana ran around demanding selfies with everyone. Jack and Gabe had fallen back into better spirits, laughing over a beer as Gabe told Jack how much he adored his boyfriend’s new look. Jack feigned that he was tired of hearing about it, but the way he lit up like a Christmas tree under the praise said otherwise. Even Angela had perked up. The doctor who had excused herself mid session and been unwilling to return was now seated comfortably on Genji’s lap. She was feeding him Swiss chocolates (Jesse hoped that they weren’t from the candy box she had given him for his birthday) and laughing as she scrubbed his black spikey hair. Reinhardt had somehow managed to drag his hammer inside unbeknownst to Jesse at the time and was ballroom dancing with it. While he was pissed at first to see the giant hammer inside his house, the scene of Rein dipping and stroking it was not something he would ever forget. Jesse sipped on the expensive whiskey that had been gifted to him while he made his rounds among his friends. Despite how sour the evening had gone for that brief stretch of time, it had picked back up and had all but been forgotten. Jesse was feeling much more like his happy self and already he and Hana were planning their next big prank. Maybe they’d bleach Gabe’s locks this time? 

      It was close to 3 in the morning when the last of the stragglers left Jesse’s house. He glanced around the living room and kitchen, surveying the damage. Beer bottles, solo cups, empty alcohol jugs, plates, and leftover food littered the spaces but Jesse decided he could clean everything up in the morning. Right now, a shower and his bed were calling his name. Jesse made his way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He shifted the dial to as hot as he figured he could stand it; the heat would be good for his muscles. Not to mention, without all of his friends being packed into one small space, the house had started to feel extremely cold. Jesse stripped and took a moment to stretch, relishing in the popping noises that echoed across his bathroom from various joints. He stepped into the tub and drew the curtain shut, hissing as the hot water washed over his feet. Reaching forward, Jesse shifted the dial to lower the heat then stepped all the way under the water, moaning obscenely as it caressed his body. Jesse stood under the stream not bothering to move. Hot water used to be a luxury. He hailed from a poor family so he had never had hot water growing up. Despite being one of the most prominent gangs in the region, the Deadlocks rarely had access to water anything above room temperature and even when they did manage to secure some hot water, Jesse hadn’t been allowed any of it. It wasn’t until Blackwatch had formally gotten off the ground that Jesse discovered the wonders of hot water. That was during his late 20s and even now, he was still mesmerized by the feeling of it. 

      Reluctantly, Jesse turned the water off and stepped out. As he finished scrubbing his face dry with the towel, Jesse realized that he was enveloped in darkness. He rubbed his eyes again and looked around. Yep, the room was pitch black save the light filtering in from the small nightlight he kept in the hallway to prevent stubbing on his toe on anything at night. Had he forgotten to turn the light on in the bathroom in his drunkenness? Jesse wrapped the towel around his lower half and crossed to the doorway. He flicked the switch only to find it in the off position. 

    “Huh,” he mumbled, switching it back down then back up with no results. He sighed in aggravation. 

      Jesse left the switch flipped down and reached up to unscrew the bulb. He brought it down to his face and studied it. The bulb was black along the round surface. Jesse brought it to his ear and shook it, hearing the distinct noises of broken filaments. He didn’t recall hearing it bust or burn out while he was showering, but then again he wasn’t really listening for it either. Tossing the bulb in the trash, he decided that putting in a new one was a problem for when he wasn’t so drunk or tired. Lazily, he made his way down the hall and into his room. Once there, Jesse dropped the towel and yanked on a clean pair of boxer briefs and flannel pants. He shivered. 

    “Probably shoulda checked the temperature in the house,” Jesse said as he rubbed his arms, though he didn’t remember turning it down this low while everyone was over. 

      Shoulda, coulda, woulda as far as he was concerned at this point so he pulled on an old sweatshirt as well before climbing into bed. As he pulled the sheets and blankets up to his chin he smiled into the dark. It had been a fantastic birthday. He had received a lot of great gifts, had gotten to see all of his friends, and they all had had a great time celebrating his day. Jesse couldn’t remember the last time he had been so happy and he owed it all to Gabriel and Jack; though mostly Gabriel. Gabe had taken him in when no one else would and had given him a home and a family. Jesse yawned and closed his eyes, settling deeper into the bed and his blankets before closing his eyes. Within seconds, he was drifting off into a peaceful sleep with a smile planted on his face.


	2. The Night is on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse has bad news for Hanzo... How will the demon react?

_Jesse trudged through heavy mud as he made his way through the dark woods. The moon overhead was the only light, but clouds and heavy foliage obscured it so the cowboy walked mostly in the dark. His feet kept sinking deeper into the mire and muck, but he forced himself to move forward. Jesse’s limbs were quickly growing heavy and he was exhausted, but he knew that if he slowed down or stopped he was as good as dead. He couldn’t explain why he knew this, he just did. All around him thick mossy trunks stretched into the sky, their ugly bare arms curled up towards the full moon and twinkling stars. It looked to Jesse like the trees were trying to rip the heavens apart. He half suspected that it wasn’t just a poetic musing. He had been walking for what seemed like hours and yet he was no closer to where he wanted to be… Not that Jesse knew where he was heading or where he wanted to go; all he knew was that he had to get out of the woods. The trees and brush all looked the same on each side and he was pretty sure that he was stuck in a loop. Occasionally, Jesse would catch the sight of what looked like electric blue lightning sparking in the shadows. The flashes would hurry him along as best as he could in the heavy mud. Pale skin the color of fresh ash danced around him accompanied by glowing white eyes drawn to narrow slits. In the distance and behind him Jesse could hear snarling spurring him forward. Laughter and a language long since forgotten or perhaps never known to man tickled his ears and sometimes Jesse could feel claws rake against his skin. Up ahead, Jesse spotted a light and he raced towards it…_

    A snarl and flash of light stirred Jesse from his sleep causing him to bolt upright in bed, adrenaline coursing through his body. He could easily tell where the snarl was originating from but he was far too afraid of what he’d see to look in its direction. Instead, Jesse sat rigid in bed staring at his closet doors, studying them intensely. A few moments passed by and then another snarl filled the room, this time louder. It was clear that something wanted his attention. Memories of the Ouija board and the demon flooded back into his mind immediately causing his stomach to pool with nausea. Panting and dripping with sweat, Jesse forced his eyes to make their way to the doorway. He wasn’t aware of the fact that he was holding his breath until his eyes fell on the doorway and the air he was holding left him in a sharp gasp. Standing in the frame was a figure draped in darkness save for the electric blue sparks that danced along the left side of the body and narrow white eyes. The white eyes were staring at him with a burning intensity and Jesse could have sworn that they were judging his very soul. Jesse issued what he hoped was a masculine scream (it wasn’t) and made a desperate lunge for Peacekeeper. He always kept the gun on his nightstand just within reach for emergencies like this. Not that he had really expected to use it on a demon per say, but whatever. Just as his fingers were about to close around the cold metal, Jesse lost his balance and nearly toppled out of bed; he had overshot by a good measure. The mistake would surely cost him his life. Jesse cursed himself on the way down to the floor for drinking so much. How could he have been so foolish? He also cursed himself for letting Gabriel talk him into summoning a demon. What an awful mentor, friend, and adopted father that guy was shaping up to be. Jesse squeezed his eyes shut so as not to see the floor right before slamming into it but much to his surprise, the impact never came. 

      Instead of the hard floor, Jesse felt a warm hand circle his mouth drowning out the scream still making its way out of his body. Jesse was then shoved backwards until his back hit the plush mattress and sank into it. An unfamiliar weight settled on him, forcing him deeper into the foam. Jesse worked his eyes open and flinched, shocked at the figure looming over him. Sitting on top of him was a strange spectacle: on one hand, the creature bore the overall shape of a man but on the other it had clear demonic features and glowing eyes. Those white eyes regarded Jesse’s honey ones carefully. It took a moment, but Jesse recognized that this was the same creature that had been stalking him in his nightmares. He swallowed painfully and chewed the inside of his lip, taking in all of the details of the demon perched atop him. The creature had ashen gray skin, demonic tattoos that snaked their way up his left arm onto his broad pec, and black hair pulled into a small ponytail that was secured with an intricately designed silver ribbon. Blue sparks of lightning arced off of the creature’s left arm periodically and Jesse felt mesmerized by the sight. The demon also had an expertly trimmed beard and Jesse fought against the urge to touch the hairs. The creature wore a white robe that was pulled open to reveal his broad chest and the full expanse of the tattoo. Puffy white pants melted into black armored boots, and a thick leather strap holding an ornate quiver wrapped around his chest. Even though Jesse found the garb to be a little strange, he didn’t bother mentioning it. Besides, he wasn’t exactly sure how he expected a demon to dress. Jesse’s eyes met the demon’s ones and they stared at each other for what felt like hours. As they sized each other up, Jesse felt as if the world had stopped moving. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jesse knew he was in danger but he couldn’t get past the sheer beauty of the demon. 

      Cautiously, Jesse sniffed the air to see if he could pick up any scent of the creature. Not surprisingly, his nose picked up the rich scent smell of sulfur. It was subtle, but he could detect it. Curiously, he also picked up the scent of cherry blossoms, mint, and the woods. The scent was intoxicating to the cowboy and he wanted to inhale it for the rest of his life. Without warning, Jesse suddenly snapped back to reality; almost as if the spell had worn off. His heart rate spiked and his body began to dump adrenaline again as the gravity of the situation collapsed down upon him. Deciding that he’d rather not see himself torn to shreds, Jesse squeezed his eyes shut and tensed his body in preparation for whatever the demon decided to do. He was pretty sure the creature would decide to rip him apart, eat him, or maybe both and he was helpless to stop it. He could only hope that it was a clean, quick, and mostly painless death. Silently, he cursed Gabriel again for bringing over the Ouija board and allowing this monster into his home. Jesse wasn’t really ready to leave the world at 37 years old, but at least he had gotten to know the pleasures of family, good friends, and fine whiskey. He began to wonder if Gabriel would say nice things at his funeral… Would there be a funeral? Would there be anything left of him to bury? Who would replace him in combat? A voice broke the silence, pulling Jesse from his thoughts. The voice was husky with a heavy accent that Jesse couldn’t place. The demon’s voice also sounded strained, as if it had been awhile since he needed to speak or exercise his vocal chords. 

    “I am going to remove my hand but I need you to stop screaming, understood?” said the voice. 

      Jesse hadn’t even been aware of the fact that he was still screaming like a banshee. He could feel his cheeks redden with embarrassment as he became painfully aware of how long he had been howling. His chest and throat felt like liquid fire. His vocal chords had been seared. The creature continued to stare at Jesse, his hand still firmly locked in place. Realizing that the demon was expecting an answer, Jesse vigorously shook his head yes. Deciding that he could be trusted, the demon slowly uncurled his hand from Jesse’s face. Immediately, Jesse noticed the lack of heat. The demon’s hand had been extremely warm against his skin; a welcome comfort in the cold of his home. Jesse shivered. The demon kept his hand in the air, fingers still curled and the muscles tense as if he was ready to cover the offending orifice should Jesse start yelling again. After a minute or two, the demon visibly relaxed and lowered his hand. Jesse let out a breath. 

    “Good,” the demon said softly. Jesse noticed that the voice was a lot smoother now; most of the coarseness was gone. If honey and whiskey had a voice, Jesse was pretty sure that this is what it would sound like. 

    “I am here to end our contract so that I may leave,” the creature sat back and studied Jesse’s face. Jesse cocked his head to the side.

    “Contract?” He repeated stupidly. The demon hissed and Jesse shrank back into the mattress as far as he could go. 

    “Yes you idiot. You did not bid me farewell and thus we have entered into a contract that I do not wish to be a part of,” the demon snarled impatiently. 

    “So, you’re not gonna kill me? Eat me? Rip me to shreds? Drag me to hell?” Jesse squeaked before clamping his mouth shut as the words spilled out. His jaw locked in place with a click and he ground his teeth, cursing his loose mouth. Jesse didn’t need to give this thing any more ideas than it probably already had. The demon stared at him curiously before allowing a sly smile to pull the corners of his lips into a wicked smile. 

    “So you’re Hanzo then, the demon from earlier?” 

    “Yes and while I _would_ take great pleasure in hurting you for your trespasses, I will not. You have my word that no harm will come to you from me,” Hanzo leaned forward as he spoke until his face was inches from Jesse’s. At this distance, he could readily smell the intoxicating aroma of the other. He licked his dry lips. 

    “That’s, uh, that’s great then,” Jesse said softly in reply. 

    “Yes, it is _great_ , but the point remains that I need you to end the contract,” Hanzo hissed through gritted teeth. It was obvious to Jesse that Hanzo was getting annoyed with him. Jesse stared up at Hanzo and started to open his mouth to reply, but was cut short when his body shut down. He was quickly whisked away into the blackness where a dreamless sleep waited to claim his tired body. 

    Jesse’s alarm clock went off at 8 a.m. dragging him out of a fitful sleep. His muscles ached from fatigue and his throat felt raw. Tiredly, he rolled over and all but punched the clock until it stopped beeping. He then stretched; groaning loudly as the muscles gradually came to life and joints popped. Jesse was a sucker for anything that got his body moving. As everything within him began to wake up, he also felt just how tired he was from a long night of drinking and shit sleep. He didn’t really have anywhere to be or anything to do that couldn’t wait until later so Jesse decided that he could sleep in for a few more hours. He’d earned it after being forced to play with that creepy Ouija board as far as he was concerned. Just as he was about to pull the covers back over his face to shut out the morning sun, Jesse remembered his dream and bolted upright in bed. Panic swept over his body, winding his loose muscles back up and hitching the air within his throat. His heart began to hammer in his chest. Jesse’s eyes took a quick inventory of the room and he didn’t immediately notice anything out of place. _Good sign,_ he thought. Rolling over, he hung himself off the bed and chanced a look under his bed like a child checking for monsters: nothing except a few books, some laundry, and a pair of shoes looked back at him. He had half expected to see a pair of milky, angry eyes staring back. Sitting up, Jesse scrubbed a hand through his greasy hair and laughed at his foolishness. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been that rattled by nightmares. Sure it had been a very realistic feeling nightmare, but it was a nightmare nonetheless and he chastised himself for getting so worked up over it. 

    “That’s what I get for playin’ with Ouija boards and going to bed drunk as fuckin’ skunk,” Jesse scolded as he laid back down and pulled the covers up to his chin. 

      Just as Jesse closed his eyes and began drifting off to sleep, a crackling sound much like lightning chasing a storm roused him. He turned his head just in time to watch a swirling black mist enter his doorway, blue sparks jumping angrily out of the cloud. He wanted to scream but all of the air had been sucked out of him so instead he stared slack-jawed at the mist, clutching the blanket to his chest so hard that his knuckles turned white. His prosthetic frayed the fabric in his grip and despite this being the best, okay _only_ set of sheets he owned, he couldn’t convince himself to loosen his grip. Squeezing the sheets for dear life gave him something to do besides grab for his gun; Jesse had made that mistake last time and Hanzo had pounced on him faster than he could draw. Jesse knew he wouldn’t reach the gun before the demon could reach him and he was afraid of what might happen should he threaten Hanzo a second time. Come to think of it, do bullets even do anything to demons? The heavy scent of sulfur pulled Jesse out of the confines of his thoughts and back into reality. The odor was so thick that he was sure he was going to choke to death on it. He could feel the toxic fumes filling his lungs and his chest ached under the weight. Just as the smell was beginning to overpower his senses, the smoke formed into the demon Hanzo. Once again, Jesse was mesmerized by the figure that stood before him. As the last curl of vapor faded away, so did the overwhelming scent of rotten eggs and fire. In its wake, Jesse smelled the cherry blossoms and woody scent of the demon. Under any other circumstances Jesse would have found the aroma calming, but face to face with something so powerful kept him on edge. He began to work his teeth together, grinding them painfully as he eyed Hanzo. The demon casually rested against the doorframe, his muscular arms crossed and the milky eyes studied Jesse. Once again, he felt as if his soul was being judged for the thousand sins he had committed. 

    “I promised not to hurt you so why are you still afraid?” Hanzo asked, his voice heavy with annoyance. Jesse flinched and the demon pinched the bridge of his nose in aggravation. He had promised not to hurt the man, but goddamn if the human wasn’t trying his patience. 

    “Well, uh, it’s not everyday a man comes face to face with a demon y’know?” Jesse reasoned with a half shrug. He forced himself to release the blanket and manually began to relax his muscles. 

    “Yes, well, it is not everyday that said man summons a demon and foolishly forgets to end the contract,” Hanzo said as he rolled his shoulders. 

    “So last night wasn’t a dream,” Jesse grumbled, pressing the palm of his prosthetic to his face. He relished in the cold comfort it brought. The demon sneered then laughed. The laugh was wicked and sent chills down Jesse’s spine. 

    “No, it was not,” Hanzo said coolly, his gazed locked on Jesse. 

    “Hum,” Jesse replied. He wasn’t sure what to say. Luckily, Hanzo was quick to get to the point. 

    “I wish to be released from our contract. I do not relish hanging around these,” Hanzo gestured with a sneer to the surroundings, _“places.”_

      The last word was spat as if it truly disgusted the demon to be in Jesse’s home. Sure the paint was old, the flooring badly worn, there was a musty odor that hung around where the wood had gotten wet, and there were a number of cobwebs, but it was still home; the first one he’d had in a very long time. The place could also benefit from a deep cleaning, some Pine-Sol, and a decorative touch but none of that really mattered to him. What mattered was that he had a place to hang his hat, kick up his feet, and call home. Jesse did his best to conceal the hurt but it was obvious on his face. Maybe Hanzo was referring to the human world in general? Or at least, Jesse hoped that was what he meant and not Jesse’s personal decorating style. The cowboy jumped backwards as a pair of long fingers snapped in his face. Jesse immediately came back to the present. Hanzo was inches away from him, leaning forward so that they were eye level. His mouth was pulled back to reveal his teeth, further showcasing his anger at being ignored by Jesse. Daydreaming was turning into a bad habit and he was going to get killed if he didn’t rein it in. 

    “Focus Jesse McCree,” Hanzo snarled. 

    “Yeah, yeah,” Jesse replied with annoyance, “how exactly do we release you?” Hanzo moved away from Jesse and perched on his desk using the chair as a footrest. 

    “We need the Ouija board,” Hanzo said simply as he rocked the chair back and forth with his foot. 

    “Alright, I’ll just make a trip to Wal-Mart real fast and I’ll be right back,” Jesse said as he threw back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. A hiss stopped him in his tracks.

    “We need the same Ouija board you used to summon me! It cannot be just _any_ board! Summoning rituals are very particular and rules must be adhered to. How foolish _are you?_ ” Hanzo’s words had a heavy bite and Jesse recoiled. 

    “Ain’t no need to insult a man Hanzo,” Jesse grumbled, “I’ll just give Gabe a call and go pick it up from his house.” 

      Jesse reached for his work phone on the desk and watched as Hanzo simply disappeared into thin air. It felt weird to be using his business phone to make a personal call, but his personal cell was still charging. A small spark and curl of smoke signaled his exit. Jesse shivered at the sight but relaxed. It felt good to have the demon out of his presence for a moment. All of the muscles and joints that had been tightly wound began to slowly unclench, causing Jesse to whimper softly. His whole body hurt from exhaustion and fear. The sooner he called Gabe and got the board back, the sooner his life could go back to being normal. Jesse turned his phone on and bypassed the many notifications he had waiting for him. No doubt it was just his friends thanking him for the evening or asking if he had seen their ‘insert-missing item here’. Why people couldn’t keep up with their shit at parties was beyond his understanding. But then again, he had grown up and spent most of his adult life with only the clothes on his back and what he could carry; you don’t form habits of leaving or forgetting things when you can count your possessions on one hand. Jesse quickly located Gabe’s number under his contacts and dialed. On the fourth ring, Gabriel picked up sounding a little worse for the wear. Jesse hid delight. _Serves that asshole right,_ he thought. 

    “H-hello? Jesse? You better have a damn good reason for calling me this early,” the voice on the other end was groggy. Jesse felt a pang for guilt for waking the man up, especially when he heard Jack’s equally exhausted voice in the background asking who was calling. 

    “I need the Ouija board we used last night,” Jesse said as calmly as possible, “so if you could just bring it over that’d be fantastic. Or I can come get it, whatever works best, but the sooner the better.” He hoped Gabe didn’t pick up on the fear lingering around his voice; Jesse didn’t feel like explaining to Gabriel that he was being haunted by a demon right now. There was a pregnant pause before the other man spoke again. 

    “Look vaquero I threw that thing in the fucking river,” Gabriel replied. Jesse paled and felt as if he was going to throw up. 

    “What? Why?! What is wrong with you? Jesus Gabriel!” Jesse cried. He could feel sweat beads forming along his hairline. He was so fucked and not in the way he liked. Jesse combed his fingers through his hair, chewing his lip. 

    “Jack said I couldn’t bring it home. After what we saw last night, he was too afraid to have it in our house. I told him that it’d be fine but he threatened me Jesse! He told me if I didn’t get that thing as far away from him and our home as possible he’d leave me!”

    “And I meant it!” Jesse heard Jack call in the background. 

    “Well, fu-“ Jesse started to say but the line went dead. 

      The phone in his hand made a horrible popping noise and suddenly fire coursed through him as if he had just gripped a live, raw wire. Hissing, Jesse dropped his phone and looked down at it. The device looked as if it had just been thrown in a fire; the screen was black, spots ebbed with red heat, and the edges were melted. Thin trails of smoke seeped out and even through his flannel pajama pants Jesse could feel the heat. Quickly, he smacked it out of his lap. Jesse didn’t have long to ponder the reasoning behind his phone’s meltdown before the nauseating scent of sulfur, ash, and liquid metal filled his nostrils. Just as quickly as the scent had come, Jesse noticed a swirling black fog that pulsed with electricity hovering in the center of his room. It reminded the cowboy of the smoke monster from Lost but much more real and much more terrifying. Just as fast the smoke had developed, a hand with long black claws appeared equally as fast yanking him out of bed by his sweatshirt. Jesse was pulled to the smoke and came face to face with Hanzo. All he could make out of the demon was the face and the arm; the rest of his body was still covered in the thick swirling mist. The demon was lit in a brilliant shade of blue that made his features look both beautiful and terrifying. Jesse followed the source of the light to Hanzo’s arm and choked down his fear and bile. Around the demon’s left arm two bright blue snakes of electricity pulsed and ebbed threateningly. The blue curls looked like dragons, hissing and clawing their way up the demon’s arm as they circled it. The dragons regarded Jesse angrily, snapping in his direction. He shuddered to think at the damage these two creatures could do at the command of their master and desperately hoped he would never find out. If given the choice of being torn apart by Hanzo or fed to the dragons, Jesse would take the first option any day of the week gladly. 

      Jesse became painfully aware that Hanzo was not only surrounded by electricity but that he was also emitting it. The cowboy could feel remnants of the static charge as it left the demon’s fingers and made its way into his flesh through contact. The shocks fatigued his muscles, gave him a headache, and seared his nerve endings. Even his bones began to feel the exhaustion from the energy pumping through him. The fine hairs on the back of his head and arms rose to attention under the current’s power. Jesse could also feel the heat radiating off of Hanzo’s body from the charge and his sweatshirt was quickly warming under the demon’s grip. Normally he would have found the heat pleasant and comforting; much like pulling clothes straight from the dryer on a cold day but here in Hanzo’s grasp he felt nothing short of pure, unadulterated terror. He briefly worried about whether or not he was going to catch fire like his phone before quickly subduing the thought. No need to add extra fear to the situation. He was already on edge and the last thing he needed was to send himself into full-blown panic mode. Jesse’s mouth tasted as if he had been sucking on live batteries, making him nauseous. He licked at his chapped lips seeking some semblance of refuge from the bitter taste. Instead, he found blood where the skin had split either from the dryness or perhaps he had bitten his lip too hard at some point. Either way, the coppery taste mingled with that of the battery flavor and made him feel sicker. As the seconds ticked by with Hanzo’s eyes burning into his and the static frying his body, Jesse fought to stay conscious. 

      Just as his mind was ready to begin its descent into blackness, the demon began to fully materialize in front of him, reawakening Jesse with a new sense of dread. Hanzo didn’t assume his typical humanoid form; instead, he took on a horrific shape that renewed Jesse’s terror and woke him better than any cup of coffee could hope. The cowboy felt himself lift higher still into the air as Hanzo came into full view, his height close to two foot or more than usual. The fingers curled around his sweatshirt lengthened and sharp claws punctured the material with nasty sounding tears. He could smell what he guessed was blood; rich in iron and something that reminded him of a welding tool wafted up from the demon’s hand. Jesse didn’t bother glancing down; he could easily assume that Hanzo’s lengthy claws had punctured the demon’s skin in the death grip he had on Jesse’s shirt. Or maybe he had snagged some of Jesse’s flesh? Maybe the hand had caught on fire and the Blackwatch Agent was burning as well? The cowboy couldn’t tell at this point and was too spellbound and scared to look. Large ivory fangs erupted as Hanzo’s mouth split in a grimace and a forked tongue slithered out to lap at the razor sharp points. Jesse swallowed back his fear at the rows of wicked canines. As the tongue swiped across, a trickle of blood formed and drizzled down Hanzo’s lip. Twin black horns ripped their way out of the flesh –not that it could be called that anymore, the skin had hardened into something that felt and looked akin to molten rock– on Hanzo’s forehead and curled upwards. Hanzo was muscular in his humanoid form, but the muscles that developed as his shift progressed were awe-inspiring. Jesse felt a pang of jealousy. He spent a LOT of hours in the gym and while he had a lot to show for it, his work paled in comparison to Hanzo’s physique. 

    “So, uh, I’m afraid I got some bad news partner,” Jesse croaked. Hanzo’s eyes flared and Jesse stilled. Shit! How am I gonna talk myself outta this one? He wiggled a bit in Hanzo’s grip. 

    “Hey, uh, I’m kinda partial to this shirt, wanna set me down?” He tried his best ‘smooth talker’ voice but it came out gruff and rife with fear. Hanzo’s grip tightened. 

    “Okay, okay, point taken. You don’t wanna set me down but surely there’s another way to end-“ Jesse started but was interrupted by a growl that sent chills down his back. 

    “The only way for the contract to be severed now is for one of us to die,” the words froze every drop of blood in Jesse’s body and his mouth went dry. Hanzo’s lips curled into a sneer that made the cowboy’s heart miss a beat. 

    “And since I am a demon, I cannot die,” Hanzo said icily. 

      Jesse swallowed the dry lump that was clogging his throat and tried to pull in air but his body wasn’t having it. Every part of his being was screaming in terror and a vibrant ache was working its way across every cell. Fear had begun to blossom in his chest and he was positive that at any moment his heart was going to beat its way out the cage. His mind was busy trying to accept or acknowledge his own mortality; he wasn’t sure which. Sure, this wasn’t the first time he’d been face to face with just how fragile human life is but this was by far the most terrifying. Jesse had been shot, stabbed, fallen through crumbled floors, interrogated, and hell he’d even lost his arm trying to play the hero… But all those weeks in med bay, the close calls, the adrenaline fueled fights for life couldn’t hold a candle to the idea of being killed by a demon. Jesse would chew his other arm off happily if it meant he could have a cleaner death than the one Hanzo would bestow upon him. Wait? Didn’t the demon say he wouldn’t hurt me? The thought bubbled up and Jesse met Hanzo’s eyes. The cold, milky ones were liquid fire and the way the demon’s jaw was set quickly squashed away any and all hope of Hanzo keeping his word. Jesse had been toeing the line with death for long enough; it only made sense that it would eventually catch up to him. He just wished it would have caught up to him in the form of old age or a clean shot to the head. His vision began to blur and turn black around the edges. He was losing the fight against consciousness. 

    “You, however, have a finite amount of time in this world,” Hanzo drawled lazily. As if he _needed_ to be reminded.

      And with that, Jesse shut his eyes to squeeze out the tears he wanted to shed over his waning mortality and succumbed to the bliss that darkness brought. Death is easier when you don’t have to look it in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kind words everyone! They mean a lot! Shout out to Kreppie as always for this magical AU! 
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr (if you're into that kinda thing) for updates): SpaceCorgiWrites


	3. You're Stuck with Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse and Hanzo come to terms with their contract. 
> 
> Jesse has a run in with another demon. 
> 
> Poor guy simply can't catch a break.

_Jesse stretched luxuriously, soaking up the cool rain as it fell on his hot skin. The grass beneath him was still crunchy from the hot summer days and tickled his exposed back. He savored the noise of the drops as they hit the cornstalks and smiled at the sound of ripples being made in the mud puddles. Shielding his face against the gentle rain, Jesse stole a glimpse up. The sky was blanketed by silver clouds tinged with hints of lavender from the setting sun. Normally when he gazed up at the sky, the hot noonday sun and a cool blue sky greeted him. Rain in these parts was rare; a godsend some would chance to say and Jesse always took full advantage of them. Sure, he’d get an earful when he trudged inside soaking wet but it was worth it to feel the coldness on his skin. He inhaled deep, savoring the scent of the farm: wild lilacs, fresh vegetables, livestock, rusting machinery, and his mom’s cooking filled his lungs and warmed his soul. As he took in another deep breath, rainwater flooded his nostrils and burned his lungs. Sitting up, he began sputtering and choking spitting out gulps of water. Slowly around him, the farm began to fade away as if the rain was washing away paints from a canvas. Jesse cried and desperately reached out toward the fading image but it was too late; McCree farm, the farm that Jesse loved with all of his heart, was gone._

      Jesse coughed again, sputtered, and gagged as a new world formed hazily around him. Though familiar and thus in a way comforting, his soul continued to ache for the farm from his dreams. Panic quickly gripped him as he couldn’t fully make out his surroundings; everything was blurry. He knew that he was safe and somewhere familiar, but the fact that Jesse didn’t know exactly where was a problem. His heart rate settled as he realized that the rain was still obstructing his view. _Wait… Rain?_ Jesse coughed again and rubbed the water from his eyes then quickly scanned his surroundings. Instead of lush rows of corn Jesse saw smooth subway tiles whose grout desperately needed some bleach. The stiff grass had melted into smooth white acrylic and no longer tickled his skin. Instead, he felt stiff and sore from laying on such a hard surface. His back ached with new knots and his lungs burned from the water he had inhaled. Jesse stole a look up. The rainclouds overhead had changed into a large round showerhead that was lit purple and orange from the sunset that was filtering in through the tiny slotted window near the ceiling. The cowboy groaned heavily and brought a hand to his head trying to remember how he’d gotten here. And why was he laying in the tub with the shower on? Had he passed out? 

      Once again, panic gripped him as he remembered his last encounter with Hanzo. Jesse gripped the edge of the tub for support and sucked in a breath to steel his nerves. Slowly, he turned his head to face the rest of the bathroom and saw the demon perching on the closed toilet lid staring down at him with a look of concern. Was it concern? Curiosity? Maybe the damn thing was just hungry and thought boiled cowboy sounded good. Jesse couldn’t be sure. Hanzo looked almost comical hunched over like a gargoyle on an old cathedral and under any other circumstances he would have laughed but remembering the demon’s true form ate away any humor that might have surfaced. Jesse shivered under the cold water still raining down upon him and also in fear. _At least he’s not trying to boil me I guess._ Reaching forward, he adjusted the dial and groaned as the water shifted to hot and soothed his skin. Jesse closed his eyes and scooted forward into the stream of water, Hanzo be damned for the moment. He hadn’t realized how cold he’d been until puffs of steam began to climb their way up into the air. Jesse drew his knees into his chest and rested his chin there. The feel of his beard against his knees tickled. That thought stirred him and he glanced down… 

    “Where the fuck are my clothes?!” Jesse yelped and all but ripped the shower curtain down in an effort to cover himself. Hanzo cocked his head, regarding the human curiously before pointing to a pile on the floor. 

      Jesse surveyed the pile. From here, he could see the tear marks in the sweatshirt. Damnit, he thought I liked that shirt. He glanced back up at Hanzo who had now shifted to the edge of the tub. The demon was sitting there, studying the water as if it held some ancient power or secret. Hanzo seemed lost in thought as he watched the water steadily fall down like rain. Jesse watched the other with equal curiosity wondering what was so fascinating about water to a demon. Feeling Jesse’s eyes on him, Hanzo turned his gaze back to the cowboy who was still trying clutching the shower curtain in an effort to protect his modesty… Not that Hanzo clearly hadn’t seen him naked or, Jesse blushed, undressed him but he hadn’t exactly been conscious enough to protest. Now that he was awake and functioning, he’d rather have some semblance of decency. 

    “Why?” Jesse managed to choke out. 

    “Why…?” Hanzo repeated, genuinely curious.

    “Why am I in here?” Jesse asked timidly. 

      Hanzo mulled the question over and furrowed his brow. He leaned closer to Jesse who scooted away. Hanzo frowned and the hurt was visible on his face. _Hadn’t he just threatened me a little bit ago?_ Jesse couldn’t be bothered to spare the demon’s feelings at the moment. His muscles twitched unpleasantly as he recalled the electricity that had been pumping through his body and his stomach curled in nausea. Yeah, demon feelings be damned right now. 

    “I assumed that you enjoy water,” Hanzo replied, gesturing towards the running shower. Jesse looked up at the showerhead and then back at the demon. 

    “Well, uh, yeah. But why’d you put me here?” Jesse worried a hand through his wet hair as he spoke then froze as realization washed over him. He quickly released his grip on the curtain and began to pat himself all over, fingers lingering on new aches trying to catalog them quickly and remembering old scars as his pads found them. As he searched himself, Hanzo watched in confusion. The demon had seen some odd behaviors from humans in the past but this was definitely a new one. Jesse continued to search is body for confirmation. Hanzo patiently waited. 

    “I’m dead ain’t I?” Jesse lamented then sighed heavily. “Never in a million years thought hell’d look like my damn bathroom, though.” Just because he hadn’t found a new scar didn’t mean that he wasn’t dead. Maybe Hanzo had simply fried his soul out of his body? 

      The demon’s laugh rang vibrantly off the walls and Jesse glanced up. Hanzo was clutching his stomach as he rocked with laughter and all but howled. The demon was still precariously perched and Jesse hoped against all odds that he’d fall backwards. A prickle of embarrassment made its way through his body. Nothing pissed off or wounded Jesse’s pride quite like being laughed at. Sure, he was a jokester and reveled in the spotlight when he cracked a particularly good one, but being laughed at because the other thought you were stupid didn’t feel very good. Jesse turned the water off and stood up, snatching the towel off the rack before wrapping it around his waist. He climbed out of the tub still dripping and stood on the rug glaring at Hanzo who was still laughing. Crimson colored his cheeks and the cowboy wanted nothing more than to take a swing at the creature in front of him but he knew that it would be a mistake. Instead, he folded his arms across his wet chest and tapped his foot on the soggy rug as he waited for Hanzo to finish. At last, Hanzo calmed himself down enough to answer.  


    “Why would you even consider such an absurdity?” Hanzo asked, folding his arms across his chest just as Jesse had. 

    “I don’t know man, maybe cuz you lifted me off the fuckin’ ground in your hell spawn form and threatened me,” Jesse spat. Hanzo flinched and moved to face Jesse. The cowboy sidestepped to put distance between them. Hanzo thankfully took the hint and stayed put. 

    “You did not allow me to finish what I was saying at the time,” Hanzo retorted. 

    “Well, I’m all ears now,” Jesse snapped, earning a dirty look from the other. Hanzo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

    “It is no longer possible to end the contract since the board is gone,” Hanzo whispered. Jesse couldn’t tell if Hanzo was sad or trying to contain his anger at the situation. The cowboy decided he couldn’t care less which. 

    “I don’t guess we can dredge the river for it?” Jesse said sarcastically. Hanzo shot him a dirty look.

    “I found the board in the river but it was beyond repair. So the contract can no longer be voided using the summoning portal,” the demon replied simply. Jesse twitched. _He had actually looked?_

    “So now the only way either of us can get out is if one of us dies but you can’t since you’re a fuckin’ demon,” Jesse reiterated, “yeah, yeah, you said that shit already.” 

    “Yes, so we must wait until you die,” Hanzo concluded with a shrug.

    “And by that you mean kill me right?” Jesse spat. Hanzo flinched and took a step back at Jesse’s words. The demon was now pressed against the sink. 

    “I made a vow that no harm would come to you on my end and I do not go against my own word,” the hurt was evident in Hanzo’s voice and it worked to soften Jesse some. 

    “But earlier-“ Jesse started. Hanzo raised a hand to silence him. 

    “I am very sorry for frightening you. It has been a rather long time I am embarrassed to admit since I have had to deal with your kind. I am afraid I lost my temper and did not think to phrase my words carefully,” Hanzo stared at the floor, circling one of Jesse’s socks with his armored foot. 

      The two sat in silence for several minutes. Jesse was lost in thought absorbing the information and Hanzo was patiently waiting for the other to speak first. Jesse wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that he would be haunted forever by this demon. Would it be like in the movies where the ghosts would move things to fuck with people for a laugh? Would other ghosts and demons show up like stray cats do once one of them finds a source of food? Could Hanzo really keep his temper reigned in for the next odd sum of years until Jesse’s expiration date? And what about having guests over? The idea of a demon hanging around the beer pong table left a bitter taste in his mouth. His stomach clenched itself in knots when he thought about taking someone to bed and Hanzo creepily watching from the closet. Would having Hanzo here be like having a roommate or would the demon just come and go as he pleased? It wasn’t until the room became bathed in darkness save for the hallway’s nightlight and Hanzo’s eyes that Jesse spoke up. 

    “So you’re ok with just hangin’ around until I kick the bucket?” Jesse stroked his beard as he talked. Hanzo had seemed appalled at sharing the same space as Jesse not that long ago. Now, the demon seemed oddly at peace. Hanzo shrugged his shoulders. 

    “I have lived for thousands of years, Jesse McCree. From what I understand, humans live 70-90 years on average, correct?” Jesse nodded in response. The demon smiled toothily. 

    “Also if memory serves me right, humans are also extremely fragile and clumsy. Many of your kind do not live that long; especially when they are as careless as yourself,” Hanzo sneered.

    Jesse feigned hurt and gripped his heart. 

    “You wound me!” Jesse protested loudly, making choking noises and dramatically flailing his arms. Gabe would be proud. Much to his surprise Hanzo crossed the distance between them, grabbed Jesse firmly by the triceps and pressed his ear to the other’s chest. Jesse froze. The demon felt warm against him and the skin was surprisingly soft. At this distance, Jesse could smell the mint and cherry blossoms radiating off of the other. He tried not to suck in more than was appropriate of the scent. 

      “Your heart is beating rapidly,” the demon barked with concern. _Well, it is now,_ Jesse thought.

    “Why is that? What did I do?” Hanzo demanded, looking up at the cowboy and lightly shaking him. 

      Jesse flushed. It really _had_ been a long time since Hanzo had been in the company of humans. A pang of guilt worked its way through his body and he gently wiggled free. _And shouldn’t he be happy at the fact that I could be keelin’ over right now?_

    “Uh… I… Hmm, just nerves. Makes me nervous bein’ around strangers and demons, y’know?” Jesse lied. He was far too tired and embarrassed to explain it to Hanzo. The demon nodded and visibly relaxed, appearing satisfied with the answer. Another thought crossed Jesse’s mind and he blushed again. Now, it was his turn to chase socks around the floor with his foot. 

    “Hey, um, Hanzo?” 

    “Yes?”

    “Why,” the words came out squeaky. Jesse cleared his throat trying to regain his composure, “why did you put me in the shower naked?”

    “I will confess that at first I did not know what to do when you fainted. However, I did recall seeing you in the shower.” Jesse’s face lit crimson red at Hanzo’s revelation. _He saw me that night? Naked? What was he doing creeping around my bathroom? Jesus Christ!_ Thoughts swarmed Jesse’s mind but he forced himself to focus back on Hanzo. 

    “The water seems to be comforting for you. At least, judging by the noises and your facial expressions from last night,” Hanzo said simply. 

      The sentiment warmed Jesse’s heart but did little to quell the flush that had muddied his cheeks. On one hand, he found the action endearing. On the other, it was still awkward to think that another man -okay, _demon_ \- had been spying on him while he was in the shower. Jesse had never been more thankful in his life to have skipped his usual nightly shower masturbation than he was now. He could only imagine Hanzo’s reaction to watching _that_ particular scene fold out. This scenario certainly would have played out different. 

    _Uh, Hanzo? Why’re ya strokin’ my dick? Not that it doesn’t feel good but y’know, it’s a little weird…_

 _Well, human I saw you doing it last night and it seemed to rejuvenate you so I thought I would imitate what I saw. Speed up the healing process you know? You’re welcome! Also, what’s this white stuff?_

      The imaginary conversation stirred something within Jesse and he could feel himself harden beneath the towel. Quickly, he squashed the thought and willed the bulge away. Glancing away from the floor, Jesse met Hanzo’s eyes. The demon was studying him as if trying to figure out what was running through his mind. Jesse thanked whatever deity was watching over him for the fact that Hanzo couldn’t read minds. 

    “Are humans really so put off by nudity?” Hanzo asked. The question caught Jesse off guard. 

    “Uh, well, it’s a little weird when a stranger strips ya down,” Jesse admitted. Hanzo considered this.

    “Yes, but when humans visit brothels are you not all strangers?” 

    _Sometimes, but sometimes you go to the same brothel, the same room, and drag your colleague away from the same hooker while he cries the same sad story onto the same shoulder…_ “Look Han, it’s just different ok? I appreciate the sentiment but please don’t strip me naked next time you scare me,” Jesse muttered.

    “Fair enough.” 

      The two stood bathed in silence and darkness for a while. The silence was awkward for Jesse but Hanzo didn’t seem to mind. The demon simply stood there, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Jesse shifted from foot to foot. He was cold, tired, and anxious. 

    “Well, uh, good talk,” Jesse mumbled, running his hand through his cold, wet hair. Hanzo nodded in affirmation.

    “I must go now,” Hanzo announced before vanishing from sight. Jesse stared slack jawed at where the demon had been standing. He was _never_ going to get used to that.

      Jesse shivered. He had quickly cooled down from the shower and despite being nearly dry, he was freezing. Frowning, he took one last look at the ruined pile of clothes and headed out of the bathroom towards his room. He fetched a new pair of flannels and a long sleeved training shirt that bore the Blackwatch logo on the sleeve and chest. Jesse glanced behind him before dropping the towel. Hanzo was nowhere in sight. The cowboy relaxed for the first time since the demon had entered his life. He dropped the towel and stretched high, rocking onto his toes as he elongated his spine. Stretch complete, Jesse dressed quickly and glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand. The time read 9:23 P.M. _Huh. Days go by fast when you spend most of them unconscious,_ Jesse thought. He sat on the edge of his bed and checked his personal phone; the debris from his business cell was still on the ground. Not surprisingly, he had a truckload of messages from Hana who had sent him all of the photos from the party; including the drunken shots of his carpet, barstools, and other mishaps taken by the random party guests. He quickly downloaded and saved them, intending to flip through them all at a later time. Jesse fired back a few text messages to concerned friends who were checking to make sure he hadn’t drowned in a whisky bottle and assured Winston that he would come in within the next few days to see about a new chest armor piece the scientist was developing.

      Jesse sighed as he checked the missed call log and chewed his lip at the several missed calls from Gabriel and Jack. He pressed his ear to the phone and listened to the voicemails. Both men sounded worried; it wasn’t like Jesse to go a full day without answering his phone unless he was on a mission and the two were concerned. It warmed his heart to know that the two men genuinely cared about it but he wasn’t sure how he’d explain his absence to them. Jesse was a bad liar and it didn’t help the case that Gabriel and Jack knew him well enough to call bullshit. He chewed his lip more as he stared at the screen. It wouldn’t be long before Jack and Gabe grew concerned enough to come to his home. Jesse peered into the hallway. He didn’t see the demon but a noise from the kitchen told him that Hanzo was still hanging around. He wasn’t prepared to explain the demon’s presence to his commanders yet and he also wasn’t sure how Hanzo would react to the men. Gabe was a hard ass with a temper and Hanzo was a demon with an equally bad temper. He shuddered to think about the million things that could go wrong. That left just one option: calling the couple and hoping that he could pass some lie over their heads. Jesse decided his best bet was to try to convince them that he had spent the day in bed nursing a ridiculously bad hangover and maybe throw in the lost phone excuse. It wasn’t a stretch to believe that Jesse had drunk himself into a stupor and he was hoping that Gabe would bite. Sucking in a nervous breath, Jesse dialed Gabe’s number. The man picked up on the second ring. 

    “Vaquero! Dios mio! I was worried about you! Yes Jackie, it’s Jesse!” Gabe’s voice relaxed over the phone and Jesse could hear a shuffle as Jack took it next. 

    “Jesse! Are you ok? We were worried sick! I was putting on my shoes to come over to check on you. Do you need us to come over? We can come over!” Jack’s voice was hoarse and choked with concern. Jesse felt guilty letting them hang in limbo for so long. He also bit back the fear at the idea of Jack rushing over.

    “I’m so sorry,” Jesse faked a coughed for good measure, “been in bed all day nursin’ this hangover. I drank too much and then lost my phone for a bit I guess. I’m sorry for worrying y’all but naw I’m fine. I found some Advil and I’m recovering nicely now.” Another shuffle and Gabe’s voice filled the other end.

    “You a lightweight now vaquero? You hardly drank! Thought I raised you better than that,” Gabe clicked his tongue. In Jesse’s defense, he had drunk a full bottle of Jack Daniel’s. In Gabe’s defense, it usually took a lot more than that to keep Jesse in bed the next day. Jesse rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling. 

    “Well asshole, I couldn’t sleep because of that creepy fuckin’ board so I stayed up and drank some more to calm my nerves,” Jesse snarled. Gabe’s laugh on the other end ruffled his feathers and pricked his ego, but Jesse had a story to sell. And if that meant hanging his pride out to dry, so be it.

    “Why’d you want that board back anyways if it scared you so much niño?” Jesse cursed under his breath. He had forgotten about calling Gabe in a panic wanting the board. _Think quick cowman._

    “I wanted to fuckin’ burn the damn thing and you alongside it,” Jesse said hoping his voice came off annoyed and nonchalant. He held his breath. There was a pregnant pause. _Shit._ Silence stretched on for longer than was necessary or comfortable before Gabriel barked out a loud laugh nearly startling Jesse off of the bed.

    “Pobrecito,” Gabriel cooed into the phone before laughing again. In the background, Jesse could hear Jack sigh loudly in frustration. Gabe just laughed harder.

    “Father of the year award incoming,” Jesse snapped. Jack took the line.

    “What he means to say is we’re glad you’re safe and hope that you had a great birthday,” Jack said sweetly. Jesse unclenched the fist he had been subconsciously balling his prosthetic hand into. The false nerves ached from the force but Jesse knew it was just phantom pain.

    “Thanks Jack, how you put up with that shit is beyond me,” Jesse replied. Jack giggled. 

    “For better or for worse, that ‘shit’ is my husband. Good night Jess, sleep well,” Jack said. In the background Jesse could hear Gabriel yell something about ‘don’t let the demons bite’. Jesse told Jack good night and ended the call.

      Jesse slung his arm over his face and sighed. It was still too early to go to bed; especially since he had spent a good chunk of the day passed out. While it wasn’t too late to venture to the base for a late night solo training session, Jesse wasn’t sure he wanted to leave Hanzo unattended in his house…. And he definitely did _not_ want him tagging along for fear of what Athena might think. There was also the off chance that staff or other Overwatch/Blackwatch members were present training. Hanzo did occasionally leave and go somewhere… Or at least, Jesse assumed that Hanzo went somewhere when he simply disappeared but maybe the demon had invisibility? Would it be rude to ask Hanzo to leave for a little while? The demon _had_ excused himself just a little bit ago. It also didn’t seem like the demon particularly liked hanging around Jesse’s place so maybe he wouldn’t take offense to it. As Jesse tried to think of polite ways to ask a demon to go somewhere else for a while, he decided that in all honesty he was too damned lazy and tired to go train right now. His body felt weary, he was exhausted, and his brain was functioning on minimal efficiency. The whole scare with Hanzo had really served to dampen his mood and the electricity, that fucking awful electricity, being dumped into his body had left him sore. That meant that he was staying in for the night and if he wasn’t ready for bed, he’d have to find something to do within the 1500 square foot of his house. 

      Another noise echoed from the kitchen and Jesse jumped at what sounded like glass shattering. He sincerely hoped it was just a glass and not his bottle of whiskey. Groaning, the cowboy stood and made his way into the hallway glancing into the bathroom first. Jesse rolled his shoulders in frustration. He decided tat he would also grab a bulb from the kitchen storage and replace the burned out bathroom light while he was up. The last thing he wanted to do was bust his head open after a fall in the bathroom if he decided to get up for a late night piss. But for now, first things first: he needed to find Hanzo before he broke anything else. As Jesse made his way down the hall, the lights flickered causing him to stop. He glanced up at the twitching light emanating from the bulb. The filaments inside hummed. Jesse sighed. He was going to have to talk to Hanzo about restraining his power; he didn’t have the desire to keep replacing bulbs every few hours. As he neared the kitchen entry, the lights flashed brightly, causing Jesse to flinch and shield his eyes. A loud pop rang out and Jesse was cast into darkness. He cursed under his breath. If he was lucky, he would be able to switch the power back on at the breaker box. Jesse turned to make his way towards the laundry room where the breaker switches were located when a loud growl accompanied by something crashing to the floor caught his attention. Jesse sighed. 

    “Hanzo?” Jesse called. No response.

    “Han, this ain’t cool man. Ya can’t go around just breakin’ a man’s shit y’know? And stop fuckin’ with my lights!” Jesse grumbled. Again, no response. 

      Jesse stretched his hand out to touch the wall and made his way into the kitchen fully prepared to give Hanzo the earful he deserved. A sharp pain seared through his foot and he yelped. He quickly leaned against the doorway and pulled his foot up to investigate. A sliver of glass sticking out caught his attention. Biting his lip, Jesse pulled the piece out and watched as dark blood quickly pooled in the area. Sighing, he lowered his foot back to the floor. He would need to wrap it but first, he needed to find the demon.

    “God damn it, Hanzo!” Jesse snapped. “I cut my damn foot! Stop fuckin’ off!”

      A bright light flashed near the sink and Jesse swung his head towards it. The flicker was gone as quickly as it had come, startling him. Whatever game Hanzo was playing, it wasn’t funny anymore. A shadow that was more like a pool of black ink crossed his vision before gliding effortlessly along the wall and into the ceiling. The scent of ash, sulfur, and something akin to rotten meat churned the cowboy’s stomach. Jesse swallowed, suddenly filled with fear. His nerves began to prickle and Jesse subconsciously reached for Peacekeeper only to find it wasn’t there. He fingered the hem of his pants and shifted his weight. His right foot felt sticky and heavy soaking in a pool of his own blood. Jesse stood frozen in his spot weighing out his options. His house was eerily quiet and he could hear his heart thumping in his ears. If Hanzo was playing a joke, which Jesse was starting to suspect wasn’t the case, then it would be a mistake to get his gun. If it _wasn’t_ Hanzo but rather something else, would he make it to his gun in time? Would Peacekeeper even do anything to a demonic presence? His other option was to start reciting what few Bible passages he knew but that just seemed silly. As he racked the paranormal sector of his brain a snarl pierced the quiet and sent chills down his spine. Jesse directed his gaze to the ceiling where the sound had come from and paled. 

      Inky black ooze was dripping from a spot and quickly pooling up on his floor. Jesse swallowed and could tell the black was starting to form a figure. _Nope, definitely not Hanzo!_ Not interested in hanging around to see what it would develop into, Jesse turned and lunged crossing the hall towards his bedroom in large strides. As he turned to enter his room, the door slammed shut and Jesse busted his face on the door. Gripping his now bloody nose and cursing, the Blackwatch agent gripped the door handle and shoved his shoulder against it. The door didn't budge. Jesse pulled back and slammed his weight repeatedly into it. He was fine with shattering the wood if it meant getting his gun. Regardless of the amount of force Jesse was applying, the door simply wouldn't open. Sighing, the cowboy chanced a look down the hall into the kitchen. Catlike yellow eyes watched him from an unnatural height. That lit a fire under his ass and he doubled his efforts. Jesse backed up and charged into the solid wood, throwing everything he had into the door. The door didn’t give but Jesse’s shoulder did. He felt it pop out of socket and cried out. Quickly, he gripped it and forced back into place. The noise his shoulder made as he reset it and the pain dropped him to his knees. Gritting his teeth Jesse willed the dizziness he was feeling to clear. Now was not the time to be out for the count. The pain that was radiating still through his arm and shoulder told him that something was still wrong; maybe a fracture somewhere or if he was lucky (he never was) a bruised bone. But now wasn’t the time for that. He wasn’t getting through the door and he needed something to defend himself.

      Jesse felt hot air on his neck and something that smelled like acid filled his nostrils. Resisting the urge to vomit, Jesse rolled to his right and used the momentum to plunge into the study. He knew that he had a gun in the desk drawer and a few other weapons strategically placed. Jesse lunged for the desk and yanked the drawer out of place flinging its contents across the room. Letters, pens, paperclips, and spare rounds bounced off the wooden floorboards. His fingers closed around the Taurus Judge. He had preloaded it with six rounds of .454 casull slugs. The rounds could easily collapse a person’s chest or blow their pelvis out if aimed properly and Jesse was a hell of a shot so he wasn’t concerned about accuracy; he was instead worried about whether or not demons could be harmed by man made weapons. The cowboy snatched a handful of spare rounds off the floor around him and dropped them quickly into his lap before closing both hands solidly around the grip. The gun had a nasty kick so unlike his Peacekeeper, he needed both hands to fire accurately and hold the damn thing still. Jesse shuffled on his butt and threw his back against the bookcase aiming the heavy gun at the doorway. He sucked in a breath and felt his heart rate lower to a steady, calm beat. The world around him faded around him until all that remained was Jesse, the door, and the gun. The gun no longer felt like a separate entity but rather a piece of him; another extremity. He zoned into the feeling and positioned the gun at a point that would be a kill zone given the creature’s size in the kitchen… Or at least, he _hoped_ it had a kill spot. 

      Jesse’s breathing was slow and purposeful. He was relaxed, focused, and his nerves calm. His eyes were locked onto the darkness of the hallway, his finger slowly stroking the trigger ready to pull at a moment’s notice. All he needed was to see his target. Normally his other hand would be positioned over the hammer to fan it for a quick succession of shots that would clear the chamber (and the throng of enemies) but because of the .45’s weight and recoil, his prosthetic rested atop his other hand to keep it steady. He’d have to rely on his ability to squeeze the trigger rapidly back to back if he was going to unload on whatever hell spawn awaited him. Jesse’s body felt light as air as he waited, counting his breaths. All he needed was to see his target. Gabriel called this ‘meditative’ form Jesse’s Dead Eye.

    _It’s like you’re alone in the world Vaquero and you could shoot the pear off a cactus a mile away,_ Gabe had marveled.

    _I’m just tryin’ to finish the job as quickly and efficiently as possible. It’s high noon somewhere in the world and I need a beer,_ was Jesse’s reply to his commander.

      Ever since that conversation, Jesse had started ironically shouting ‘it’s high noon’ before clearing a room using his Dead Eye. Eventually, the tagline stuck and he stopped using it ironically much to the dismay of his teammates. The yellow catlike eyes filled the doorway and Jesse gave it a lopsided grin. His previous aim was dead on: he was locked onto the thing’s head… Not that he could make it out fully in the dark; all he could see was those damned yellow eyes but that was enough for him. Jesse waited for it to enter fully into view. Had he not been in his trancelike state, he likely would have pissed himself from fear. The moonlight illuminated the creature’s hellish features and as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he picked up the finer details. Thick ram horns curled out of the skull and curved behind the head. Jesse could see the tips resting near the sickeningly angled cheekbones that stuck out from underneath the thin flesh, the gray mottled skin stretched taut around it. The nose was flat, ridged, and broad with two dark slits that twitched with the thing’s inhalations. The lower jaw protruded out further than the top and Jesse could see several rows of large fangs sticking out. A forked snake tongue slipped out and curled around the larger of the teeth before sliding back inside the wicked mouth. A demonic mark that looked like it had been burned into the skin decorated the creature’s forehead and pulsed; perhaps with energy or electricity. Jesse hoped it wasn't electricity, he was sick of being fried. Long, muscular arms hung at the demon’s sides and reached past knobby, decaying knees that were jutted forward not unlike a goat’s. The demon’s four digits were fidgeting and Jesse could see the long, thick claws glinting in the light. Jesse noticed oozing boils on top of one of the hands; on the other there were gaping holes that reminded him of lotus pods but puffier.

      The chest was barreled out and heavily marbled with the same colors of gray, tan, and diseased yellow. Jesse could see the bones and count the creature’s ribs easily through the thin skin. The stomach was nearly inverted and was covered with small patches of fur. Long, partially furred legs gave way to clawed feet that reminded Jesse of a gargoyle’s. One of the claws on the left foot was broken Jesse noticed; not that it mattered, it had enough whole ones to rip him apart several times over. A tail swung into view and looked like a lot like a rat’s, pink and hairless, save for the scorpion point on the end. As the bald flesh swung back and forth Jesse noticed that it looked like the skin was barely hanging onto the bone and muscle beneath it. As he looked the demon over, he realized that the whole creature appeared as if it was in a state of decay. In some places, muscle and skin had melted away and Jesse could see the bones or inner workings. While that should inspire confidence in a .45 slug ripping through it, the fact that it was a supernatural creature capable of who knows what kept Jesse from feeling completely confident. The demon lifted the tail into the air and Jesse watched as what he guessed was poison dripped from the end. The sluggish, yellow fluid leaked out of the tip and hit the floor with a hiss. The cowboy didn’t take his eyes off the demon but the sound told him that it had burned his floorboards. He damn sure didn’t want to feel that on his body. 

    “Greetings,” the voice rumbled across the room, heavy with an accent that Jesse couldn’t place. Jesse wondered briefly if all demons had accents. This one sounded different from Hanzo; more gravely, archaic, and worn. 

      The demon’s tail continued to twitch, the tip swayed threateningly. Jesse didn’t see a point in responding. He could take his shot from here, but for maximum destruction he wanted it to come about a foot closer. A .45 shot at near point blank could probably sever a human in half and Jesse wanted to make sure he had the best chance possible of killing it in 6 shots; preferably less. The demon’s eyes narrowed and it curled its mouth as best as it could given the severe underbite. It took a step forward and lowered its head slightly so that it could regard Jesse better. Jesse adjusted his aim smoothly with the position change. _Just a few steps closer._ The tail was now flicking back and forth like an angry cat. 

    “Will you not acknowledge me?” Clearly Jesse’s silence had struck a chord. Good. 

    "Yer actin’ like I can’t fuckin’ see you or somethin’. But God damn if I couldn’t smell your stink the moment you came in,” Jesse retorted. The demon stood upright, Jesse’s gun following the head. The creature laughed and it another deep rumble vibrated off of the walls.

    “You humans and your humor,” the demon growled, “it never fails to amuse me. Unfortunately, humor does little to assuage me from consuming the souls of mortals." The tongue slipped out between the teeth and stroked the larger fangs once more. Jesse resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

    “Then come fuckin’ get it,” Jesse challenged.

      The demon grinned, gave one last flick of its tail and lunged forward at Jesse all teeth, claws, and wicked scorpion point. Jesse fired all six shots in rapid succession. The world went dark.


	4. For Better or For Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the fight and Hanzo's origin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry that it has taken so long to get this chapter out. I can launch a million and one excuses y'alls way but none of that matters so enjoy! :)

      Everything was strikingly dark after the brilliant flashes of the Taurus Judge. The world had slowed to a crawl and Jesse briefly wondered if the earth was even rotating anymore. Time had lost its power over this realm and Jesse floated in a blissful limbo. He wasn’t sure if his shots had hit that mark… Fuck that, he was _positive_ they hit their mark; he never missed. What he didn’t know was whether or not the shots had done their job. His muscles were tight, his bones ached, and a headache was working itself behind his eyes. His nose itched from the dry blood and he could taste copper in his mouth. Undoubtedly, he’d bitten his lip or his tongue. There was something so peaceful, calm, and wonderful about dumping adrenaline in the heat of battle. Jesse loved the feeling of liquid fire as it surged through his body, filling his lungs and veins. The warmth it brought with it was sheer bliss. It was a high that Jesse could ride forever but damn if the come down wasn’t rough. Normally, he bought time to delay the aches that came once the adrenaline was gone by surveying his kills but here in the dark he just felt tired. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep for a month. Jesse’s eyes tried to close at the thought but he forced them to stay open. He wasn’t out of harm’s way yet; he needed to know if he had killed the thing or if he needed to prepare for round two. Sluggishly, Jesse groped his lap for the spare rounds. As his fingers felt the cold metal casings, time came crashing in and the world spun once more. Not quite ready for the world to move so fast, Jesse swayed and used a hand to steady himself.

      The hand was in something thick and sticky; the consistency reminded Jesse of Jack’s sweet barbeque sauce. A flash of lightning lit the room in a brilliant blue. Jesse threw his arm over his eyes, wincing as the sore shoulder voiced its pain. The blue dimmed and the lights overhead flickered as if trying to come back on but failed repeatedly. A few seconds of strobe like flashes and Jesse was relieved to find himself back in the darkness. Jesse quickly reloaded the Judge as his eyes continued to adjust to the dark. Clearly he had injured the beast enough to buy some time but he didn’t know how much he had bought. He wasn’t thinking clearly; his whole being was fighting against exhaustion. Thoughts came and were forgotten as quickly as they had spawned. Deep down he knew he should have reloaded a long time ago, surveyed the area, and if he couldn’t accurately do so then he should have fired off more shots (he had plenty of ammunition; he could stand to waste some) in the direction of the creature. Gabe would be so disappointed. Jesse cursed himself but wasn’t about to throw a pity party; he’d have plenty of time to reevaluate his senses, marksmanship, and reactions once he was safe. _Check, double check, and then check again. If it’s dead, shoot it again if you have any suspicions. Check, double check, and then check again. Catalog your wounds, acknowledge the damage you sustained. Clear your head. Keep your wits about you. Check, double check, and then check again for more enemies. Know your gun, know its limits. Know your rounds, know their limits. Know your body, know its limits. Know where your spares are. Know your reload times. Check, double check, and then check again._ Hands grabbed his arms and Jesse cried out, kicking as hard as he could. His foot connected with something solid. The cowboy felt a sudden weight on his thighs and bucked upwards trying to dislodge it but whatever it was pinned him easily. 

    “Fight me like a fuckin’ man you coward!” Jesse roared as he tried to wiggle free. If he could just reach his gun… 

  “Jesse, Jesse McCree,” the familiar voice was speaking slowly. “Relax Jesse, it is me. You are safe, I promise.” 

      Jesse went limp. It was Hanzo, Hanzo had pinned him down. He was safe. Jesse strained his eyes in the dark and could see the demon’s milky ones staring back. As he adjusted, he could make out a thick, dark substance speckled across the other’s face. It looked like tar but smelled like disease. Jesse’s stomach bubbled. Realizing that Jesse wasn’t going to attack, Hanzo shifted back off of him and came to a squatted position, his arms resting on his knees. The absence of weight was a blessing and a curse. Something about the pressure had felt relaxing and Jesse realized it had also been holding him up. He slumped heavily against the bookcase and sucked in a deep painful breath. Hanzo slowly extended his hand out and paused just inches from Jesse’s face. Jesse looked at the hand then let his eyes close. The demon’s fingers smoothed his hair behind his ear and brushed sweat from his forehead. The cowboy leaned into the touch as best as he could. Hanzo’s skin was so damn soft and warm. The demon was surprisingly gentle as he wiped away the sweat from Jesse’s brow and then swiped at the tacky goo on his cheek. Jesse supposed that the goo had belonged to the demon and he decided that it was best if he didn’t spend too much time thinking about whether or not it was blood, poison, or tissue. 

      The two sat in silence for a while as Jesse collected his thoughts and breath while Hanzo continued to stroke his hair and face. Eventually the demon’s hand wandered down to the Jesse’s shoulder and he flinched in pain. Hanzo then glided his fingers down to Jesse’s elbow, earning another wince from the cowboy as he inspected it. As Hanzo passed over the forearm surveying the damage, the Blackwatch Agent gently gripped the demon’s hand with his prosthetic and gave it a light squeeze. Hanzo took the hint and pulled his hand away. Jesse missed the touch immediately but the areas were too tender to ignore in favor of feeling the demon. He would definitely be making a trip to med bay to see Angela in the morning. Jesse forced his eyes open and met Hanzo’s. The other looked truly concerned. The moonlit illuminated Hanzo’s handsome features and Jesse’s head swam. He wasn’t sure if it was the comedown off of the adrenaline, the heat of the moment, delirium, or something else but he desperately wanted to kiss Hanzo. He wanted to taste the other’s mouth, run his fingers through the glossy black hair. Jesse’s tongue slid across his busted lip _so that’s where the blood taste had come from_ , and then came back to rest inside his mouth. He wondered what Hanzo tasted like… Hanzo reached forward and placed his hands firmly on Jesse’s face, cupping it. The thumbs stroked his cheeks and Jesse gave a half-ass attempt at his patented cocky smile. He was sure it failed miserably. 

    “Hey stranger,” Jesse’s voice was hoarse. He let out a cough that hurt far worse than it should have. 

    “Hello.” 

    “Is it always gonna be like this with us?” Before he could consider the words, they were out of his mouth. Hanzo cocked his head to the side. 

    “Like this?” Hanzo repeated and Jesse shrugged then winced. Hanzo’s fingers drifted back down to the injured arm but the cowboy brushed him away again. 

    “Yeah, me gettin’ hurt, banged up and spending the day either exhausted or knocked out. Cuz if everyday’s gonna feel like today I dunno how much of it I can take boss,” Jesse replied. He was half serious, half joking. 

      He really wasn’t sure how many days like the last few he could stand. He wasn’t old by most people’s standards but a lifetime of war meant his body had been rode hard and hung up wet; Jesse wasn’t what he used to be. His whole body writhed in pain and exhaustion. Keeping his eyes open was a true testament to Jesse’s strength and will. Hanzo’s face sank and Jesse could see the hurt as it took over his features. Jesse reached a hand forward and ran it across the demon’s cheek ignoring the pain that radiated out from various areas. Hanzo flinched and snatched Jesse’s hand, glaring at it. The cowboy stiffened in fear as the demon’s lips peeled back to expose his teeth. He sucked in a breath. As quickly as the air filled his lungs, Hanzo relaxed and dropped the hand, turning away and flushing. Jesse considered reaching back out but thought better of it. It was clear that Hanzo wasn’t touched often and perhaps didn’t enjoy the feeling of it. Jesse did his best to ignore the sting of Hanzo’s rejection that he felt in the pit of his stomach. 

    “Hey Han, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…” Jesse trailed off. He wasn’t sure what to say. Hanzo’s gaze locked onto a pattern on the floor and he idly traced it with a long fingernail. 

    “No, it is I who is sorry Jesse McCree. It has been a very long time since I have been touched by anything human. I am also very sorry that I have brought this suffering upon you. I cannot assure you that everyday will not be like this, but I can promise you that I will protect you from harm,” Hanzo’s voice was riddled with anxiety, trepidation, and sorrow. Jesse mulled over what Hanzo had said. A light bulb flicked on upstairs in his mind. 

    “Hanzo?” 

    “Yes Jesse?” 

    “Uh, what was that demon doin’ in here?” Jesse hadn’t really given the other demon’s presence a second thought until Hanzo apologized. 

      At first, it had seemed like a normal apology but then the Blackwatch agent had picked it apart and read between the lines. It seemed as if Hanzo was apologizing for the demon’s presence. Had Hanzo had something to do with that? Was Jesse’s home a hell spawn portal now? Would other nasty creatures come crawling through to eat him? He’d never really dealt with the occult before besides the occasional restless ghost; nothing violent or as tangible as Hanzo and the nightmare creature. The spirits Jesse had encountered were thin, translucent, or shadows that skirted quickly out of sight. But Hanzo and the other beast were as solid as he was. Jesse had definitely been hurt in the exchange and was lucky, but he wasn’t sure that he could always roll the dice and have them come up in his favor. Hanzo nibbled his lip then rolled forward onto his knees bringing his weight down onto his feet in a seated position. He rested his hands on his thighs. 

    “It is… Complicated,” Hanzo hummed. 

      “Complicated? How?” Jesse’s voice had a high pitch to it; he was worried and it was showing. Hanzo drew in a noisy inhalation through his nose. 

    “Allow me to begin by explaining my origins. Unlike your kind, demons and other creatures of Hell are created as needed. We are designed to fulfill a purpose or assume a particular role that is bestowed upon us by our maker. There are no chance births or discovering your destiny as a demon: it has been predetermined for you. It is impossible to deny your role. However, the roles may change depending upon contracts such as the one you unknowingly drafted up. I may at any given time sign myself to a number of contracts. Typically, I only bind myself to arrangements that benefit me,” Hanzo’s eyes coolly met Jesse’s and the cowboy shifted his weight uncomfortably. 

    “Like others of my kind, I was created in Hell and frequently reside there. I do navigate through various dimensions, times, and even worlds but much of the business that I can conduct is here on Earth. You humans enjoy making deals so there is a surplus of work in this realm,” Hanzo chuckled to himself though the notion made Jesse shudder. _‘A surplus of work?’ Just how many demons are walkin’ around takin’ people’s souls?_

    “In regards to Hell, Dante Alighieri was very much correct with his depiction in The Inferno. There are multiple levels, nine to be exact, that accommodate various tiers of evil; or sin as some humans call it. This is to say that the further down you traverse, the more vicious the inhabitants become and the more serious the sin. Think of it as the lower into the depths you travel, the further you stray from the light. Once you have left the first circle, you are well on your way into darkness, despair, and depravity. While most demons may come and go between the levels, assuming of course their masters permit them, the makers typically do not leave. The ‘lesser’ demons do their bidding as the makers are often the keepers and watchers of the circles. My creator is from the fifth level: Wrath. I was created to navigate all circles of Incontinence but I reside most frequently in the fifth and second when I am not collecting payments.” Jesse nodded, making a mental note to brush up on Dante when he had the chance. 

    “While I still retain my original position assigned by my maker, your contract takes priority. This is to say that if I have business dealings in Hell or another dimension, you may summon me and I must make an appearance. Of course the ‘when’ aspect is up to my discretion but as the drafter of our contract, you hold sway over me. As you well know, a contract can only be terminated by following a set of laws regarding that particular agreement. In the case of the Ouija board, you can use the unbinding ritual to release the demon. Obviously in our case this is no longer an option. In normal situations, a demon could kill the drafter to sever the contract but Ouija bindings are different. The demon, spirit, or creature is bound to the summoner. This means that even if I desired to I could not harm you in any way. It also means that I must protect you from harm. When you ended the séance without saying goodbye, you sealed the contract and bound my form to yours. I could have bestowed physical harm upon you before you ended the ritual but not after,” Hanzo’s voice was soft. 

    “What, uh, exactly is your position? Like I know you said you collect payments, but what exactly does that mean?” Jesse swallowed a lump of fear as the question passed his lips. 

    “I forge contracts with humans. In exchange for fulfilling their desires, which are typically sexual or vengeful in nature, I in turn claim possession of their soul. Once the agreement has come to term, I collect the debt that is owed and ferry the soul back to Hell where upon my maker deals with it. I am merely an armed messenger and businessman,” Hanzo spoke casually despite the weight that his “job” carried. Jesse also suspected that “collecting the debt” wasn’t as easy as asking nicely. He shuddered to think at how a demon took an unwilling person’s soul. 

    “Okay then… Who’s your maker?” Jesse’s prosthetic worried itself through his locks. 

    “It is best if you do not know,” Hanzo whispered and Jesse cringed. He imagined that Hanzo’s creator must be someone or some _thing_ of importance. It also had to be capable of serious brutality given its position within the circles of Hell. 

    “So I’m guessing the um circles also represent a pecking order?” Jesse wished he had paid more attention in some of English classes. Hanzo nodded. 

    “Yes. The larger the number, the more important the demons and hell spawn that reside there. Bare in mind that even within the circles there are also tiers: creators and keepers, guards, messengers, dealers, lesser demons, and more. The souls that reside there are at the bottom of the rankings. Souls are arranged within the circles according to sin and their level of evil. However, souls that may have been destined for another circle of Hell may be ferried to a different tier if they strike a contract with a demon that resides in that particular one. So if someone sells their soul in order to become a warmonger on Earth, they will be ferried to the circle of Wrath even though their original destination may have been Heresy.” Jesse rolled the information around in his brain trying to absorb as much of it as possible. And damn was it a LOT to process. 

      Jesse sat mulling things over in a comfortable silence while Hanzo studied the other’s face. Jesse couldn’t make out much of Hanzo’s features in the dark aside from the glowing milky eyes. He briefly wondered in the demon could see him clearly in the darkness and decided that he probably could. The Blackwatch Agent couldn’t imagine that Hell was a well-lit place so Hanzo was probably accustomed to navigating the dark. Jesse’s eyesight was usually better than this; he had been on enough missions at night to see better but exhaustion was weighing heavily on him. His shoulder and arm were a throbbing ball of pain, he was nauseous, and tired. He desperately needed a shower and he also needed to see Angela. He still wasn’t sure how he’d explain the injuries to her, but if something was broken he couldn’t risk having his dominant arm out for the count; especially if Hell spawn were going to start hanging around his place. Briefly, he wondered if he could wait until the morning to see the doctor. Jesse could easily stave off pain; exhaustion was a different beast and he’d never coped well with it. A sickening smell filled Jesse’s nose and he cringed. He also needed a shower. Whatever ick had landed on him from the other demon smelled like hot spoiled meat left to cook under the Mexican sun. 

    “May I ask what your thoughts are on this?” Hanzo’s voice startled the cowboy. He had been so wrapped in his own mind he had almost forgotten about the other. 

    “Well, it’s a lot to take in y’know? I mean, even if I didn’t like it, that doesn’t make it any less true and it doesn’t do shit for our predicament. We’re stuck together now like two an old married couple. For better or for worse Han,” Jesse raised an imaginary glass and clinked it in the air. Hanzo considered the other and nodded. 

    “For better or for worse,” Hanzo agreed. Jesse gave a lop-sided grin. 

    “Don’t ‘spose you could turn the lights back on huh?” Jesse’s body was done for. It was going to be a struggle to make it to bed and then the doc in the morning; the last thing he had the energy for was to fool with the breaker box. 

      Hanzo gave a curt nod before disappearing in a plume of smoke. Jesse leaned his head back against the bookcase and rolled it across the wood. It was a cheap Ikea model and the particleboard was smooth against his scalp. The motion eased some of the nausea and kept him awake. The lights flickered on then quickly dimmed and faded to black. Jesse groaned. Maybe the board had been fried… The old wiring probably wasn’t used to being short-circuited so frequently by demons. He made a mental note to have an electrician out soon. If they could do something to ease the strain Hanzo and the others were putting on it, the better it would be for Jesse. He didn’t know how many more gunfights he could swing in the dark. The lights flicked on again and began twitching like strobe lights at a club. Jesse covered his face with his prosthetic and chewed his lip as nausea filled his stomach. Even with his eyes shut tight beneath the metal, the flashing was working bile up to the back of his throat and he could taste the sourness of it. Just when the cowboy didn’t think he could take much more, the lights stopped flickering and stayed on. Slowly Jesse lowered his arm and looked around the room squinting against the bright light as he waited for his old eyes to adjust. Hanzo was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded and a smile on his face. 

    “Thanks,” Jesse said with a grin, “don’t ‘spose yer in the mood for one last favor huh?” 

    “And what would this favor be?” Hanzo asked curiously. 

    “Could ya carry me to bed? I ain’t got the strength left to move my self,” Jesse flushed as the words left his mouth but he was beyond exhausted. The last few days had been too much for him. Not to mention he’d come off of an extended mission that had gone sour just a few weeks before his birthday. The wounds from it had healed into scars, but his body was still reeling from the workload. He had overdone it and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed, pride be fucked. 

    “I do not mind at all Jesse, but first I must insist that we get your arm checked out. I think it has been severely injured,” Hanzo said softly. _No shit, it’s fucked six ways from Sunday; at least one or two fractures,_ Jesse thought. 

    “First thing in the mornin’, I promise.” Hanzo studied Jesse’s face with narrowed eyes. “Doc ain’t even on base this late and I doubt she’d answer her phone,” Jesse lied. He just wanted to sleep. His arm could wait. 

      Hanzo looked Jesse over and then stroked his beard. The demon’s eyes wandered from the man’s injured arm to his face then back again as if judging the severity of the injury. Jesse did his best to look as if it was nothing more than a surface wound that could wait until morning. Hanzo made his way over to the Blackwatch agent and crouched in front of him. Reaching forward, he gingerly touched the skin of the arm with the pad of his finger. The flesh was extremely sore; made even more so by the tiredness that was taking up residence in his bones. Jesse did his best to hide the flinch but it didn’t go unnoticed. The cowboy opened his mouth to protest but Hanzo put his finger against the other’s lips to quiet him. Jesse’s jaw clicked shut. Delicately, the demon lifted the arm and surveyed it, rotating it gently until Jesse put up too much of a fuss before turning it a different direction. He wasn’t sure how much Hanzo could know about human anatomy but maybe their bone structure was the same? Either way, the demon continued his examination before standing back up. Once again, he disappeared but reappeared quickly, a length of gauze wrap in his hand, a splint and a sling. 

    “If you decree that it can wait, then we shall wait until the morning but I insist upon wrapping the injury,” Hanzo’s voice was firm. It was clear that he wasn’t taken no for an answer. Begrudgingly, Jesse thrust his arm forward for the demon. 

      After tending to Jesse’s injury, which the cowboy had to admit was incredibly endearing, he was carried bridal style to his bed. Once he was in bed, Jesse stripped down to his boxers, chunking the dirty clothes into a pile in the corner. His flannels and training shirt were covered in a mixture of gunpowder, sweat, blood, and demon particles; nasty stuff that he didn’t want to wear to bed. Shivering, he quickly pulled the covers up to his chin. Hanzo moved to the chest of drawers and returned with an Overwatch hoodie and a pair of black silk pajama bottoms. The demon rubbed the pants between his fingers, seemingly transfixed before handing them over to Jesse. Silk was considered a luxury fabric; or at least according to Jesse it was. After all, the material was typically more expensive than anything he wore outside of armor or leather goods… But those were practical; silk wasn’t. All that that particular textile said was: ‘look at me! I’m expensive for no reason. I’m not efficient, I’ll make you sweat even though I’m fuckin’ freezing, and I’m high maintenance.’ As Jesse took the items, he flushed remembering where the pants had come from. They had been a Valentine’s Day gift many years ago from an ex lover. She had insisted that the shiny, decadent material would look sexy on him. _‘It’ll make your dick look so nice,’_ she had gushed at the time. Jesse had half considered strangling himself to death with them. He had worn them for her amusement but after the breakup, he had stuffed the pants in a drawer and forgotten about their existence for the most part. Rather than be rude, Jesse tugged them on and graciously pulled on the hoodie with Hanzo’s help. He only yelped and bitched a few times as they guided his arm down the sleeve. 

    “That fabric is called silk, correct?” Hanzo inquired. Jesse rolled his head to look at the demon. Hanzo was sitting on the edge of Jesse’s bed. 

    “Yeah, why you ask?” The cowboy stifled a yawn and glanced at the clock. It was late; or early depending on your definition of hours. 

    “It is a luxury material in the human world I believe, or at least at one time it was. I have seen many humans kill over the textile,” Hanzo’s eyes focused on a spot on the wall and he studied it. It was clear that the demon’s mind was wandering back through memories and replaying them. 

    “I mean, it’s still a nice fabric I guess but I don’t think anyone kills over it anymore,” Jesse yawned this time and Hanzo chuckled. 

    “Go to sleep, Jesse. I will remain here to insure that you are safe and in the morning I shall escort you to the doctor,” Hanzo said softly. Jesse startled. _Escort me to the doctor?!_

    “E-escort me?” Jesse’s voice hitched and he swallowed. He couldn’t imagine taking the demon to the base with him. _Hey Angela, I think I fractured my- stop screaming! Yeah, I see the demon. Angela, no, sweetie put down the gun please don’t- why did you shoot at my demon? Yeah, I said my demon. See the funny thing is…_ Jesse stared wide-eyed at Hanzo who simply chuckled. 

    “For better or for worse cowboy we are stuck together, remember? This means that where you go, I shall also,” Hanzo’s voice was calm and even.  
    “You can’t just walk onto a military base Han!” Jesse all but shouted. Hanzo grinned. 

    “I know. Now rest Jesse McCree, I will explain things in the morning,” Hanzo ran a hand through Jesse’s hair and stood. 

      Despite his best efforts, Jesse simply couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. He was being drug towards the abyss of sleep kicking and screaming. Ten or fifteen years ago the cowboy would have had the energy to go all night and fight against sleep but that was no longer the case. Years of physical, mental, and emotional abuse had chewed him up and spat him out. His combat training, body, and mind still served him well in the heat of battle but once things were deemed safe Jesse was a slave to his base whims. He could only stave off exhaustion for so long and he had given everything he had to give the last few days; the cowboy didn’t have anything left in the tank. As his eyes closed repeatedly and he forced them back open each time, he stole a few last glances of Hanzo. He wasn’t sure why he was so intent on looking at the demon; was it because he was hoping for more information or did Jesse really want to make sure that Hanzo was going to keep guard? He had pulled guard duty shifts like this before taking turns sleeping while someone watched, but it was different having a demon keep an eye out. It felt unnerving yet safe, frustrating but soothing; a sturdy rock weathering the storm. Jesse tried to swim through the turmoil of emotions he was feeling but he couldn’t navigate the waters. He desperately wanted to protest, demand that Hanzo explain himself but he couldn’t make his mouth form the words. Instead, he watched the demon fiddle with pieces of an intricate bow before he slipped into a peaceful sleep where he dreamt of McCree farm and his mother’s homemade apple pies. 

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo, I have no idea how long this will be or how often I'll update. But I'll try to add more as frequently as possible.
> 
> Also I'm SpaceCorgiWrites on Tumblr if that's something you're into.


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